


Keep Your Head Up

by MildlyMoonstruck



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Coming of Age, Eventual Smut, Gen, Heavy Snark and Sarcasm, M/M, Multi, ON HIATUS - See Author Profile, Romantic Comedy, Several Hundred Pop Culture References, Slow Burn, Theatre!AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:19:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 102,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildlyMoonstruck/pseuds/MildlyMoonstruck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that he doesn’t want to be at auditions, Levi acknowledges—if there’s anything that’s true about him, it’s that he will never do something unless he really wants to, on some level. ‘That’s the only stupid reason I said yes to this,’ he grouses, scowling. ‘Never should have watched Dr. Horrible with Erwin and Hanji that one time. Note to self: don’t let anyone know you like things. Liking things is stupid and gives people a way to exploit you because they know you want to do Dr. Horrible like nobody’s fucking business, and they were counting on that. Ugh. I hate them. I hate people.’</p><p>Enter a certain bright-eyed freshman who can't seem to keep his mouth shut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act One - Setting the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is my first fiction-foray into the Shingeki no Kyojin fandom, and, um, I'm hecka nervous about it. But the idea wouldn't let go of me, and, well, yeah. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Any comments are appreciated, really. Also, I'm awful at summaries. And possibly writing. Um wow please don't look at me.

“No.”

“… I haven’t even said anything yet.”

A beady eye narrows, glaring viciously. “Erwin, you ask me at the beginning of every year, and every year, the answer is no.”

“Levi,” Erwin says warningly, a tone at which the shorter male quirks an incredulous eyebrow at. “It’s senior year, and you won’t even consider it?”

Levi snorts and leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he flicks his gaze up at the digital clock above the door—7:56, it reads, and he frowns at the thought of spending the next four minutes having this damn conversation until first period starts. He taps his barbell against the back of his teeth, trying to pick out the answer that will be most likely to get Erwin to drop the subject. “It’s only Monday.”

“Auditions are Wednesday,” Erwin counters, a knowing glimmer in his eye. “And if I waited until Tuesday to ask you, you could easily come up with something to be ‘busy’ with the next day.”

“Like hanging myself in the janitor’s closet.”

“Levi.”

He rolls his eyes and tilts the chair forward, its front legs slamming back down on the floor; Levi ignores the way the other students milling about the classroom shoot him looks at the sudden noise. “Why do you want me to say yes so badly?”

Erwin gaze is meaningful, but he humors Levi and begins to tick off the reasons on his fingers. “It’s our last year to get involved, it’s one more thing you can put on your college application, me and Hanji will be really glad if you do, and—take a moment to wrap your head around the concept—it’s fun.”

“Ha-ha,” Levi deadpans, propping up his chin on one hand and rubbing at a pencil smudge on the corner of his desk with the other. “Still don’t have a good enough reason to say yes.”

Erwin runs his fingers through neatly parted blonde hair and smiles pleasantly, but his eyes are calculating; Levi feels a prickle of apprehension zinging up his spine, and he tenses. He knows that look. That was the look that Erwin only got when he had an absolute trump card, and Levi fucking hated that stupid look. He opens his mouth to blurt out something— _anything_ to keep his friend from speaking, but Erwin’s words are already out before he gets in another breath.

“It’s Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog this year.”

Levi freezes. _‘You son-of-a-bitch.’_

Erwin smiles even wider at the interested glint in his eyes. “That’s one of your favorites, isn’t it?”

“… I hate you.”

“I take it that’s a yes?”

“Shut up.”

Erwin chuckles and shoots him a cheerful, “See you there, then,” just as the bell rings and he turns around to face the front of the room as the teacher begins to take attendance. Levi growls and slumps down in his chair, alternating the direction of his dark scowl between the back of his friend’s head and the smudge on his desk that he hadn’t been able to wipe off.

 _‘Note to self: get new friends._ ’

~~~

 _‘Why did I ever agree to this?’_ Levi thinks, stopping in the doorway to the auditorium. He only has half a second to entertain the thought of turning and dashing out before anyone he knows spots him, but the idea is moot the second that there’s a very familiar, very obnoxious squeal and someone plows right into him.

“You’re actually doing it! You’re gonna try out for the musical; oh, I _knew_ this was the year we’d get you here! The second I found out it was Dr. Horrible, I thought to myself, ‘Yep, that’s definitely Levi’s thing!’”

“Hanji, so help me God, if you don’t get the hell off me right now,” he grunts, feeling his ribs creaking at the sheer strength of her hug. He huffs out an annoyed breath when she finally lets go and steps back. “What are you even doing here? You’re on crew every year.”

Hanji pushes her glasses up her nose and flashes him a bright grin and a peace sign, chirping, “I’m here to encourage anyone who doesn’t make the cast to join crew.” She nudges an elbow into his side and continues, “That means you, but I bet you’ll get a part for something.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” he grumbles, setting down his backpack by an empty seat and trudging forward to the stage where all the other hopefuls had gathered for this year’s fall musical audition. “I’m only here because Erwin’s an asshole.”

She makes a reprimanding sound low in her throat and pats him on the back. “Oh don’t lie; you know you’re definitely in. I’ve gotta go sit with the adults, but break a leg!”

 _‘If I thought it would get me out of doing this, I definitely would,’_ Levi thinks, hopping up onto the edge of the stage and pointedly ignoring the stares directed his way from both the students and the adults in charge of the production. He gives Erwin the finger as discreetly as he can—which was to say, not at all—and snatches up the pen and paper held out to him in offering.

“Fill it out completely,” Erwin tells him with a pointed look that clearly translates to, _‘Don’t be an ass.’_

Levi smirks in response and plops down near the stage’s edge, quickly scanning the sheet and scribbling in the requested information. _‘Name. Year. Schedule…’_ He frowns down at the last question on the paper. _‘Why did you decide to audition for the show?’_ Levi gives it a moment of consideration before shrugging and deciding to answer honestly. After Erwin collects his sheet, he quietly scans the crowd that has gathered in the theater for auditions.

It is a small group, admittedly, but Levi assumes that is probably partly because the show wasn’t a well-known classic like ‘Grease’ or ‘Chicago’—which automatically meant less interest in trying out—and partly because anyone who _did_ know the show would also know how small the cast was. He recognizes more than a few of the people that are there, though; while it was true he had actively avoided getting involved in most theater-like activities for the majority of his high school career, he _had_ seen every show the theater department had put on since his freshman year, mainly because of Hanji—a long-time crew member—and Erwin—a long-time actor. Since the three of them spent the majority of their time together, Levi had often found himself tagging along to weekend rehearsals at Erwin’s house just because he couldn’t be bothered to say no and find something else to do, and it had become somewhat of a running joke in the program. Erwin and Hanji actually weren’t the only ones who’d tried to get him involved, but everyone else had simply learned to stop asking.

Because he at least recognizes who the ‘veterans’ are, it is easy for him to zero in on the new crowd, clustered right in the middle of everything, looking an interesting combination of nervously out-of-place and eager in an almost puppy-like way. They are all wide-eyed and excited, but Levi’s sharp gaze fixes on one unfamiliar face in particular.

Average would have been an acceptable way to describe the brunette boy, if it hadn’t been for his round, intensely expressive eyes; Levi is certain that the kid is a freshman he’s never seen before, because it would be impossible to forget an almost unnaturally bright, unique shade of green—he’d bet money that even Crayola hadn’t produced that ridiculous color yet. He's practically vibrating with energy, bouncing on his knees the way he is and chatting animatedly with a little blonde guy—another freshman, no doubt—who looked terrified to be there. He watches Bright-Eyes clap a hand down on his friend’s shoulder and couldn’t have heard his laughter any clearer than if it’d been right in his ear.

Everyone’s attention is pulled to the front of the auditorium by a booming, “Alright, listen up! For those of you who are new to this, my name is Keith Shadis, and I will be directing this year’s fall production of Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog.” He eyes the crowd of students almost menacingly, his gaze only just lingering the slightest bit longer on the overeager freshman than anyone else. “Raise your hand if you don’t know the show,” he commands gruffly, and Levi barely suppresses a snort of amusement when a sophomore named Sasha Braus is the first to shoot her hand into the air. Director Shadis shoots her a withering look.

“Braus!”

“Yes sir?”

“What did I say last year about food on the stage?”

“Um…” She looks down at the half-eaten bag of chips in her lap. “Not allowed unless it’s for a show.”

“Care to explain why you’re eating, then?”

She blinks and gives him a look of confusion before responding in an almost patronizing tone, “… Are you asking me why people eat things in general?”

Levi is the only one who outright laughs at the thunderous expression on Shadis’ face, while Erwin suddenly descends into a not-entirely believable coughing fit and the rest of the theater vets look away from the scene, muffling snickers. The freshmen look absolutely terrified, eyes darting back and forth between the oblivious girl and the fuming director.

“It’s only been five minutes and you’re already getting on my last nerve, Braus,” Shadis growls, ignoring the chuckles his statement earns. “For everyone without a clue, the basic plot of the show is this: Dr. Horrible, the titular character, is an aspiring supervillain who is trying to get admitted to the Evil League of Evil. At the same time, he is trying to connect with the girl of his dreams, Penny, who happens to have fallen for Dr. Horrible’s nemesis, Captain Hammer.  It’s a small, unique show, but we’ve all agreed that it’s a good fit for this year’s production. And by we—” He jerks a thumb at the other faculty members seated behind him. “I mean the rest of the adults involved in the program. Introduce yourselves to the newbies.”

“Mike Zakarius, you kids can call me Mr. Z,” the sandy-haired man says with a wave. “For those of you who don’t know, I’m in charge of the crew here. This student,” he continues, gesturing to Hanji, “is the stage manager for this year.”

“Hi, I’m Hanji Zoe! I’m here to say that if you don’t get cast in the show, you should still be involved by joining crew! We have a lot of fun, but we also work really hard, so it’s definitely not a place for slackers!”

“I can smell weakness,” Mr. Z says humorlessly, but his eyes are warm and there are several amused snorts from the others.

A thin woman with close-cropped blonde hair speaks next. “I’m Ms. Nanaba, and I’m in charge of the costumes and makeup; if set crew’s not for you, I could always use more people who understand the importance of foundation and color coordination. And of course, making sure the actors don’t look ugly as hell while they’re melting under stage lights,” she says cheerfully before nodding to the next woman.

“I’m Ms. Brzenska, and I’ll be the music director for this show.” Her tone is completely no-nonsense, and a few of the kids shift uncomfortably when she falls silent and fixes them with a blank stare, clearly not intending to say anything more.

A balding man with several laugh lines on his weathered face chuckles and flutters his fingers at her. “So serious, Rico—you’ll scare them off,” he chastises her, earning a frown and a heavy eye-roll. He smiles kindly at the students and says, “Well, I’m last but certainly not least; Dot Pixis. I’ll be choreographing the show.”

“Now,” Director Shadis booms, and everyone’s eyes snap straight back to him; the freshman even sit up a little straighter. “Before we begin, I’m going to tell you something very important right now. The way we work here at the Shiganshina High Theater Program is different, but successful. We don’t cast based on looks, we cast based on talent. Anyone can play any part, as long as you’ve got the drive and the ability. There are _no_ favorites here, so if you think that playing up the kind of behavior that you assume we want to see will get you a ‘better’ part, you can get the hell out of this place right now and don’t even think about coming back.”

The air is stiff with silence, and Levi sees Bright-Eyes tremble out of the corner of his eye. He grimaces. _‘Is the kid scared?’_

The quiet stretches for a moment longer before Shadis nods in approval and continues gruffly, “Good. We don’t have time for uncommitted little shits here.”

Levi listens with only half an ear when Shadis begins to explain how the audition process will go, trudging forward when they are all split into groups and directed to their first station. Levi finds himself put together with Erwin—whether this is good or bad, he hasn’t yet decided—Sasha, Petra Ral, a kind girl in his AP English class as well as a theatre vet, and Bright-Eyes, whose name has completely escaped him, and he can’t be bothered to ask. They trek through the now-empty halls, following Ms. Brzenska to the music room where they will be assessed on their vocal skills.

Levi has heard Erwin—a smooth, low tenor/baritone—and Sasha—a mezzo-soprano with a decent range—sing often in past shows. The last time he'd heard Petra sing was in the musical during their sophomore year, but her clear, bell-like soprano is just as lovely as he remembers, and he mouths, ‘Nice job.’ She beams at the praise and gives him a thumbs-up.

Ms. Brzenska scrutinizes him when it’s turn to step forward. “So you finally gave in?” He keeps his expression disinterested and doesn’t respond. She shakes her head and places her fingers over the keys of the piano. “On an ‘ah,’” she tells him before beginning to play up. He follows easily, into the falsetto without pushing. She takes him up to an F sharp before stopping and scrawling a note on the sheet with his information. “On ‘yah,’” she instructs before beginning to play once more, and they get to a low G before she stops again and waves him back.

Levi turns and nearly collides with Bright-Eyes, who has suddenly gotten up close and personal with the most wide-eyed and marveling look on his face. Levi scowls. “What?”

“That was—“

“Jaeger,” Ms. Brzenska snaps, “I don’t have all day.”

“S-Sorry, ma’am!” the boy yelps, and Levi turns the name over in his mind while he watches him step towards the piano. ‘ _Jaeger.’_ He frowns. _‘Weird name for a weird kid,’_ he thinks, but he still finds himself watching closely as those practically luminescent eyes narrow in fierce determination and his stance shifts so he can take a proper breath.

Levi isn’t sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t the pure, light sound that ended up coming out of the kid’s mouth. _‘The fuck_?’ is his barely-registered thought as the sincere, earnest tones ring out in the room. Ms. Brzenska’s brows climb with the notes as Jaeger rises past tenor and well into the alto range before his voice cracks, and he blushes furiously and sputters an apology that she ignores to immediately begin testing how low he can go.

When they are done, Levi holds himself back from the group as they make their way to one of the gyms for the choreography station; Petra and Sasha are gushing over the boy, and Levi glances away from them to see Erwin watching him. He quirks a brow and asks, “What?”

Erwin smiles and prompts in an infuriatingly serene voice, “Well?”

“Tch. Well, what? So the newbie knows how to sing, big deal.”

Erwin laughs softly and remarks, “Technically, you’re a newbie, too. Here, anyways.”

Levi looks away silently, drawing the blinds over his eyes and ignoring the apologetic look that Erwin sends him. “ _Technically_ , I’m not anything, because I’m not part of the program. And I don’t care one way or another if I officially become part of it or not.”

Levi admits to himself that he is relieved when Erwin ignores his use of the word ‘officially’, deciding instead to leave him behind and join the rest of the group. It’s not that he _doesn’t_ want to be at auditions, Levi acknowledges—if there’s anything that’s true about him, it’s that he will never do something unless he really wants to, on some level. ‘ _That’s the only stupid reason I said yes to this,’_ he grouses, scowling. _‘Never should have watched Dr. Horrible with Erwin and Hanji that one time. Note to self: don’t let anyone know you like things. Liking things is stupid and gives people a way to exploit you because they know you want to do Dr. Horrible like nobody’s fucking business, and they were counting on that. Ugh. I hate them. I hate people.’_

“Hey.”

Levi stops for two reasons; one, there’s suddenly an obnoxious freshman in his way, and two, said freshman has just addressed him in a—coming from him—surprisingly cold tone. Levi wipes his face of all expression. “What—” He pauses just long enough for it to be insulting. “—Jaeger?”

The kid almost looks upset. “Do you really not care about getting cast?”

Levi gives him a flat look and barely perceptible shrug. “I’m not gonna cry about it if I don’t, kid. It’s a small show; I don’t have any great expectations.”

Jaeger balls his hands into trembling fists; ahead, Sasha and Petra are staring curiously, and Erwin looks surprised—whether it’s at the freshman looking like he’s about to throw a punch or at Levi’s sincere answer, he’s not sure. “If you seriously don’t care about getting put in the show, then why are you here?” Jaeger snaps, and the air is suddenly thick with tension.

Levi’s brows draw down in an intimidating glower that, in all honesty, has sent greater people cowering. “What was that?” he murmurs dangerously.

He sees the brief flash of doubt in those bright eyes before it disappears and they harden in bullheaded determination as the kid carries on. “I said, if you don’t care about getting in the show, then why did you even bother coming to auditions? You’re wasting everyone’s time—”

The jarring clang of Levi slamming the younger boy into the ugly blue lockers rings out, and his voice cuts over the kid’s pained yelp. “Yeah? You’re the one sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong; mind your own fucking business, you stupid brat.”

“Levi, leave Eren alone,” Erwin calls sharply, and Levi unconsciously files away the name. _‘Eren.’_

“Yeah, guys,” Petra laughs nervously, trying to diffuse the situation. “Come on. We need to get to Pixis or we’ll be holding up auditions, alright?”

Levi holds eye-contact with Eren for a few beats longer, just to watch him squirm, before he lets go of the boy’s shirt and turns away without another word. He falls into step beside Erwin, who gives him a faintly reproachful look and says, “You’ll scare him off.”

“Okay. Shitty kid like that isn’t going to do well in theater anyway if he goes around running his mouth off at everyone,” Levi retorts, just loud enough to be certain that Eren has heard. He strolls into the gym before the little hothead can pick up the confrontation again.

The dance portion goes well enough. Dot Pixis has been choreographing Shiganshina High’s shows for decades, ever since he retired from being a backup dancer for Ricky Martin; plenty of jokes have circulated in the program about how his former job had a very _personal_ aspect to it, all of them perpetuated—and a few created—by Pixis himself. He takes the group through a light routine for Penny’s Song; the only thing noteworthy is when Sasha turns one time too many and tumbles to the ground, managing to latch onto Erwin and take him down with her. Levi almost cracks a smile.

The group heads back to the auditorium for the final station, and Levi rolls his eyes when Eren starts trailing behind so he can fall into step beside him. He’d meant what he said—no confrontational little snot ever does well in theatre. He tells him so in a voice low enough that Erwin won’t be able to hear it.

“Are you serious?” Eren asks, and Levi looks at him like he’s stupid. Eren huffs and clarifies, “I meant about not caring whether you’re in the show or not.”

Levi looks away and says simply, “Whatever happens, happens. They either cast me or they don’t.”

“Yeah, but you’re not even trying!” Eren bursts out, and the rest of the group gives them curious glances. They both fall silent for a bit, but Eren mutters, “If you were just planning on going through auditions looking bored and not even bothering to give one hundred percent, then what’s the point of even showing up?”

Levi narrows his eyes at him and replies evenly, “Being an elitist little shit and lecturing a senior just because they’re not being sloppily enthusiastic and forcing every single thing they do to the extreme just to get noticed isn’t going to be what gets you a part, kid. _If_ you get a part.”

Eren blinks owlishly at him. “You’re a senior? You don’t look—never mind,” he cuts himself off abruptly at the warning look at Levi shoots him. His overall expression isn’t all that terrifying, really. But it’s the beady, heavy-lidded eyes that unnerve him, sharp and flinty underneath the fluorescent school lights. It might also be the piercings, two studs above the right brow. For whatever reason, Eren has always been nervous around people who have piercings that aren’t on their ears. He finds himself staring at Levi’s, though.

They are almost back at the auditorium when Eren decides to speak up again. “So, what shows _have_ you done here?”

“Oh, this is Levi’s first time auditioning for a show,” Erwin answers cheerfully. Eren looks floored.

“We’ve all tried to get him to audition before,” Petra supplies. “Lots of people in theatre have, actually. He’s always been around because he’s best friends with Erwin and Hanji—the stage manager this year, remember? Anyway, this is the first time Erwin’s managed to convince him.”

Sasha bounces on the balls of her feet and chirps, “I’m super excited that got to be in the same group with him; I’ve already worked with Petra and Erwin in last year’s show, and now I get to try out with Levi. This is mega-cool.”

“You guys talk about him like he’s some sort of theater god, even though he’s never been in a show before,” Eren mutters.

“No, not a god. More like—our mascot…?” Sasha murmurs thoughtfully, and Petra giggles.

“God, it’s almost like I’m _not_ right fucking here,” Levi grumbles, rolling his eyes when Erwin gives him that annoyingly pleasant smile as they push open the auditorium doors; that smile is specifically reserved for him, because it always has a double meaning. Right now, the meaning is, _‘Shut up and play nice.’_

But as they all file up the steps and onto the stage, Eren steps in close and whispers challengingly, “I bet you’re not even that good.”

Levi whips his head around and his gaze immediately snaps to those big, round eyes, shining with an infectious energy that only comes from a true theater kid—jacked sky-high on the adrenaline of performance, one hundred and fifty percent willing to show everyone who can see exactly what he is able to do. Levi sees all of these things in Eren, and it’s enough for him to deliberately take the bait and mouth, “Oh yeah, brat?”

He wonders what kind of face he’d made when he’d done that, because Eren blinks, staring at him with that almost wondering look he’d had in the music room. The kid almost misses a step.

The group lines up, and Director Shadis—seated in between Nanaba, Mr. Z, and Hanji—shuffles through the papers that they’d filled out earlier. He calls out Erwin’s, Sasha’s, and Petra’s names with some variation of “Welcome back again,” but he pauses at Levi’s and stares down at the paper. “Levi… R—”

“Just Levi is fine,” he cuts in, frowning at the way Hanji suppresses a knowing giggle. “My last name’s weird, so.”

Shadis scrutinizes him for a bit and then says, “I know you.”

Levi nods and replies flatly, “Yeah. English class last year.”

Shadis raises a brow at him; clearly, that wasn’t what he’d been thinking of, but he doesn’t pursue the subject. He looks back down at the papers in his hand and says, “This is your first time trying out. You like Dr. Horrible that much?” After another brief nod from Levi, Shadis turns his intimidating gaze on Eren and says, “You. I’ve heard about you from your sister. Eren Jaeger, right?”

Eren laughs nervously and rubs a hand over the nape of his neck. “Ah, yeah. Mikasa’s actually part of the reason I decided to try out; she’s told me lots about the program here. But I also decided to do it, just because I really love theatre. Acting is what I want to do with my life.”

The adults all share a look, and Shadis intones, “Really, now?”

There is a bright flame of determination in his eyes, just as fierce as the next words he says. “It’s my dream. I don’t just want to do it to be famous; I want people to really love me, and be inspired by what they see. That’s what makes a great actor, and that’s what I want to be.”

Levi watches Eren out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer of interest in his gaze.

Director Shadis looks very much the same, brow furrowed in concentration as he glances back and forth between the energetic freshman and the quiet senior. “I have a question for both of you, since this is the first time you’re attempting to get involved. Assuming you both decided to try out because you want to be here—” This is directed more at Levi. “—then, would I be mistaken in assuming that, if cast, you would both perform any role you were placed in, giving one hundred and ten percent effort? Would you work yourself to the bone for the sake of the show? I meant what I said before; this isn’t the place for uncommitted little shits, and if you fit a role, then you’re cast in it. If I believe that you have the talent to play a damn head cheerleader and cast you as such, I expect you to be prepared to be so goddamn preppy, you give half the audience diabetes. If you’re not up for that challenge, then you can back out now, no harm done.”

There is a pregnant pause, and Eren is the first one to respond; he stands up straighter, eyes luminous and a fierce grin on his face. “I can do it,” he breathes, nodding enthusiastically.

Director Shadis gestures to the room at large and says, “Well here’s your chance to prove it, Jaeger.”

Levi completely misses the inquisitive look that the director gives him. Eren has turned to look at him, and the little monster has _the_ haughtiest look on his face; his eyes narrow, throwing down another challenge that is both like the one Shadis has presented, and yet not. Levi knows what the kid is thinking, and it’s not, _‘You can’t do it.’_

It’s, _‘You can’t do it like_ I _can.’_

Levi feels something spark within, and it tugs the corner of his mouth to quirk upwards in the very faintest of smirks. “I can handle anything you throw at me.”

He isn’t entirely sure who he’d meant to direct that to.

~~~

It’s past ten when Levi makes it home, shutting the front door as quietly as he can and trudging up to his room. Bone-tired as he is, he still manages to kick off his boots and lay them neatly by the door with his backpack before he collapses onto his bed. It’s never felt as comfy as it does now, after hours of intense socialization. Being honest with himself, Levi knows that he is not one to willingly throw himself into a conversation; he is much more content sitting off to the side and observing people instead. Then again, something that everyone—himself included—appreciates about theatre is the opportunity to be someone else, whether it’s for a five-minute improv, or a two hour show.

Feeling exhaustion weighing down his eyelids, he buries his face into the pillow with a quiet groan and admits that the Shiganshina High Theatre Program is everything that Erwin’s spent years convincing him it was.

_‘Stupid fucking Erwin, being right. As usual. Asshole.’_

He huffs and turns over onto his back, flicking his bangs away from his eyes and draping an arm across his forehead. He tries to calm his racing mind, but he knows he’s a goner; the program has sucked him in, finally, and a part of him secretly enjoys the uncertainty, the opportunity to wonder whose name he will see on the callback list tomorrow morning, and whose name he will see on the cast list the day after that. He spends at least another hour thinking back to who he’d seen today, pairing the new information with that of what he knows from past shows.

There are sure things, seniors like Erwin and Petra who have been in shows since freshman and sophomore year and have the reliable talent to be cast once again—and even some of the juniors who have shown the same consistency.

Then there are the probables—half of the juniors and most of the sophomores, but he can definitely see Sasha getting cast as _something_. As much as she drives the director batshit insane, her wild energy is something that few can match, and Levi knows that those kinds of people are key in performances.

That’s never been his own style, though.

He blinks away the thought as soon as it enters his head, more willing to think about the remaining people besides himself. The newbies, as Erwin had put it. Hanji had talked his ear off about the pleasant surprises when he’d given her a ride home—a girl with pigtails who was timid at first, but grew really absorbed in the scene when she’d gotten used to it. Promising. Same with the little blonde freshman—Armin something—who had been talking to Jaeger before auditions had begun.

_‘Eren Jaeger.’_

Levi nods off soon enough, but not before acknowledging that he knows in his gut that the kid’s name will definitely be on one, if not both, of those lists.

 


	2. It's All About Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright. First off, I’m obligated to congratulate you all on making callbacks, but if you want the honest truth, I would hold off on feeling too proud until you’ve gotten through the next few hours in one piece. This will be long, and this will be repetitive. You will get tired. You will get bored. But I expect every one of you to put forth your full effort every time you are asked to read a scene or sing a song. No exceptions, no excuses. Now, let’s get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo, I can't believe people are actually reading this, much less enjoying it, but you make me happy and I love you all. I LOVE YOU MMK.

Although it’s barely seven by the time Levi pulls into the school parking lot the next morning, the sun is already making progress on its ascent into the sky; Levi shields his eyes with one hand and takes a liberal gulp of coffee from the giant thermos in the other, privately wishing for winter so he can make the drive to school without nearly being blinded by daylight. _‘I’ll kill Erwin,’_ he thinks, watching his friend’s car pull into the spot right next to his own. _‘I should not have to be up so early. Ever.’_

Erwin laughs when Levi responds to his cheerful, “Good morning” with a raised middle finger and another long swig; Levi isn’t semi-functional in the mornings until he’s consumed at least a cup and a half of some sort of caffeinated beverage.

They walk through the front doors in silence and make it halfway to the auditorium when Levi finally speaks up. “Did Hanji tell you anything?” He is referring to whatever decisions the adults might have made about callbacks last night that Hanji overheard, considering she was sitting with them the entire time.

Erwin smiles and replies, “She might have.”

Levi narrows his eyes at him but doesn’t say anything; if it takes a cup and a half of coffee to be able to form coherent sentences, it takes at least ten times that amount to be able to deal with anything Erwin does this early in the morning. Levi’s phone vibrates in his pocket then, and he fishes it out and flips it open to see a message from Hanji: _CALLBACKS ARE POSTED_ , followed by a disgustingly large amount of exclamation points and smiley faces. He scoffs but finds himself picking up his pace, just slightly.

They round the corner to see a small crowd already gathered in front of the doors to the auditorium, students trying to catch a glimpse of their name on the single sheet that has been taped up. Levi lets Erwin walk ahead and follows close behind in the path that people make; it’s just politeness and common sense to step aside for the more experienced people. Erwin barely glances at the paper before nodding—Levi frowns and thinks, _‘Hanji_ did _tell him something_.’ He rolls his eyes when Erwin looks down at him expectantly but moves forward to scan the sheet.

He blinks hard when he spots the only place that his name is listed—right under ‘Dr. Horrible’, along with Marco Bodt, a junior he recognizes from last year’s show. And—

_‘Eren Jaeger.’_

He almost glances around to see if the kid is there. Almost. But instead, he hums low in his throat and says dryly, "Neat.”

“That’s your only reaction?”

Levi shrugs and reads more, finding Erwin’s name listed under ‘Captain Hammer’ and snorts. “Getting a callback doesn’t equal getting a role,” he says matter-of-factly. He blinks in surprise when he sees the names listed under ‘Penny’—specifically, the last name written there. _‘…Well then.’_ He glances up and finds Erwin standing right over his shoulder, still watching him. “Director Shadis really meant the ‘any person could fit any part’ thing.”

Erwin gives him an amused look but responds with a sincere, “He might have unorthodox methods, but we are one of the best programs in the state. He knows what works.”

Levi thinks briefly about the two massive display cases in the school’s lobby, lined with rows of competitive drama trophies, and has to agree. He turns to leave and ends up meeting a familiar, bright-eyed gaze. Eren is standing with the little blonde kid—‘ _Armin_ ,’ he remembers Hanji telling him—and Mikasa. Just to fuck with the kid, he deliberately holds eye contact as he sighs and shakes his head before taking a slow sip of his coffee; the reaction he gets is priceless. Eren’s eyes widen to a comical size and flick nervously back and forth between Levi and the callback list. When he darts towards it, Armin following close behind, Levi smirks and then nods at Mikasa in greeting.

“Leave him alone, you midget,” she says, sounding more exasperated than angry. “He wouldn’t shut up about you last night and has been panicking about callbacks ever since he woke up.”

Choosing to ignore the slam at his height, he says, “He’s fine, he got called back for two leads. I’m surprised you didn’t audition, though. You were good last year.” He almost wonders if acting is a big deal in the Jaeger family. Last year, as a freshman, Mikasa had been cast in a supporting lead and had done a near-flawless job in every single performance; if what he’d seen at auditions was anything to go by, Eren—while not having the same amount of natural talent, had more than enough determination and drive to make up for it.

Mikasa shrugs and shoves her hands in her pockets, watching her little brother trying—and failing—to push past the throng of people in front of the list. “I’m surprised you actually did audition. Acting’s okay, but the whole thing’s just too exhausting for me. I think I’ll stick with crew this year.”

Levi gives another quick nod of understanding and watches Eren out of the corner of his eye. He knows the exact moment that the kid sees his name listed under ‘Dr. Horrible’, because the little shit spins around and grins triumphantly at him. Levi quirks a brow and tilts his head, indicating that Eren should read more; the grin fades a little bit as the kid turns back around. “Your brother’s an idiot,” he tells Mikasa.

“Shut up,” she snaps back without any real heat. “You said he got called back for two leads? Which ones?

“Dr. Horrible and—”

“ _Penny_?” comes Eren’s surprised yelp, and Levi snorts. When Eren looks at him again, Levi gives him a mocking little salute with his thermos.

“Levi, knock it off,” Mikasa warns, this time with the threatening tone of an overprotective sibling. Levi ignores her and obnoxiously clicks his barbell against the back of his teeth, causing her to scowl at him. “Seriously; he’s just a freshman.”

Levi laughs humorlessly and responds, “He yelled at me yesterday because he thought I wasn’t taking auditions seriously. If anything, he needs to be disciplined, not coddled.”

Mikasa huffs and tries to knock his coffee out of his hand, which manages to earn her a very black look. “You’re going to find yourself ‘accidentally’ trapped under a set piece,” she threatens him.

“Assuming I make the show at all.”

She gives him an almost incredulous look that he doesn’t acknowledge. He’s still watching Eren, who is now talking to Erwin; Levi wants to roll his eyes at the reassuring pat on the shoulder that his friend gives the kid. “Hey Erwin,” he calls, “Quit babying the brat and let’s go find Hanji. She has my physics notes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with giving a little friendly advice to the new kids,” Erwin tells him.

“It’s just callbacks; what advice do you need for that other than ‘don’t fuck up’?”

“They called me back for a _girl’s_ part,” Eren grumbles, as if the problem is obvious. “How am I supposed to do that?” He looks to Erwin for an answer but is surprised when Levi is the one who speaks.

“They didn’t call you back for a girl part, stupid shit. They called you back for Penny’s character, and Penny’s character is the epitome of goodness—” Here, he gives Eren a look that clearly wonders how he could possibly be considered for such a thing. “—and they want to see how you play that. Unless having a dick negatively affects your skills, in which case, there _is_ a solution for that, you shouldn’t have a problem. Quit being such a baby about it; get serious. Or are you too nervous?”

“I am not!” Eren blurts out, indignant. Levi watches with faint interest at the way the tips of his ears go red. He shrugs and starts walking away, privately amused at the irritated grumble that comes from the kid.

_‘What a little brat.’_

Erwin appears at his side to clap a hand over his shoulder and says, “Good advice. I would’ve worded it a little nicer, but we can’t expect miracles.” His amusement is obvious, and Levi feels his eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

“Fuck off.”

~~~

The day seems to drag, and when three o’clock rolls around, Levi almost feels ready to jump out of his own skin; it’s been a long time since he’s had anything to be so focused on. He’s sitting outside of the auditorium with the rest of the students who’ve been called back, ignoring the entertained looks that Erwin and Petra give him every time he wipes at a stubborn scuff mark on the floor that just won’t disappear.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Petra finally says, just as Director Shadis comes striding down the hall with Ms. Brzenska and Mr. Z; Levi frowns at her.

“I’m not nervous,” he mutters, getting up and trailing into the auditorium with everyone else. There’s a piano on the stage, and neat stacks of paper are lined up on the apron.

Director Shadis points to them and orders, “Pick up every single one that has the name of a character you were called back for, and make it quick. We don’t have time to waste.”

Everyone scrambles—well, everyone but Levi, who just waits until everyone has gotten out of his way—to grab scripts and sheet music; they all sit back down, and Shadis continues, “Alright. First off, I’m obligated to congratulate you all on making callbacks, but if you want the honest truth, I would hold off on feeling too proud until you’ve gotten through the next few hours in one piece. This will be long, and this will be repetitive. You will get tired. You will get bored. But I expect every one of you to put forth your full effort every time you are asked to read a scene or sing a song. No exceptions, no excuses. Now, let’s get started.”

Callbacks start off simply, with Ms. Brzenska sitting at the piano and calling the potentials for Dr. Horrible forward first. She plays them through ‘Brand New Day’ all together only twice; Levi knows the show and its songs by heart, and Eren and Marco pick it up quickly enough before Shadis tells Marco to perform it first. The others are sitting off in the audience, watching, and Levi and Eren move off to the side to give Marco the stage.

 _‘Not bad_ ,’ Levi thinks, watching the junior sing; he’s talented, true, but he wavers between adding his body to his performance and simply standing in one place, ending up in a sort of middle-ground where the most he does is punctuate the song with arm movements. Still, he doesn’t screw up and sets a high standard, so Levi is pleased when Eren is called to go next. He hears the boy gulp nervously before shuffling forward to take Marco’s place.

The boy is clearly nervous, starting off the song a little too hesitantly to really capture the crowd right away; Levi watches him struggle through the first stanza, but the kid slowly gains confidence and becomes more dynamic as he continues. He’s not sure if it’s Eren’s ability to commit to character or just the fact that he has a somewhat naturally aggressive countenance, but by the end, he’s completely sold Dr. Horrible’s darkness during the number, and Levi allows a faintly pleased smirk to tug at the corner of his mouth.

Levi ignores the way the kid tries to meet his eyes when he takes Eren’s place, choosing instead to keep his own gaze on the ground as he feels the prickle of anticipation zinging up his spine. He nods at Ms. Brzenska to signal that he is ready right before he shuts out Shiganshina High’s auditorium, with its dim lights and staring students, and lets himself slip into the mind of Dr. Horrible.

If he were actually thinking about it, Levi would probably agree that the sudden switch from his usual attitude—stoic at best and irritable at worst—to the widely expressive personality of the character is jarring, to say the least. He picks a focal point to sing to and strides across the stage, throwing his arms out and filling up the space he is given. He manages to surprise a laugh out of a couple of the other students when he points at Shadis on the line, “All the angels sing because you’re gonna die,” which works in his favor. It wasn’t perfect—he’d definitely jumped the gun on a line here or there—but he doesn’t regret anything about the performance, and it’s the best he can do.

He leaves the stage when the Captain Hammers are called up. Instead of sitting near everyone else, he makes his way over to the far corner of the auditorium to look over the scripts in his hands alone, but his solitude is interrupted when someone plops down in the seat right next to him. He looks up irritably and meets Eren’s eyes. The kid is wide-eyed and a little flushed, looking a cross between completely awed at Levi and somewhat disappointed in himself.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Levi cuts him off with a laconic, “Shut up, Jaeger.”

“I—”

Levi whacks him in the mouth with the back of his scripts and nods toward the stage, where Ms. Brzenska has begun playing through ‘Everyone’s a Hero.’ Eren’s mouth drops open into an ‘O’ of understanding, and Levi taps the papers in his hands. The kid still looks like he wants to talk, but—amazingly—he bows his head and obediently begins to read through his lines.

Levi briefly scans the scenes that he holds; it takes a minute and a half. He looks up at the stage and watches Erwin take his turn at performing. That’s another two minutes. Finally, he huffs out the faintest of sighs and glances at Eren, curious.

He’s completely absorbed in his task, eyes darting back and forth over the pages he holds in his hands. Levi wonders if he knows that he’s mouthing his lines, trying out one facial expression with a phrase before frowning and making another, attempting to fit the pieces of a character into place. Levi’s gaze flicks down at his script. He blinks, surprised.

Even though he’d just hit the kid for trying to talk, he leans in close, stopping just short of touching his mouth to Eren’s ear, and whispers, “Are you reading for Penny?”

Eren jerks in surprise, his leg slamming into the side of his seat with an audible bang; luckily the actors on stage had been switching places, so he hadn’t interrupted anyone’s song, but a guilty blush still blooms across his face when Levi shoots him a dirty look. He stammers a quick apology and nods.

 _‘This kid is so fucking weird,’_ Levi thinks, privately amused at how Eren seems _embarrassed_ now, hunching over his script and trying to hide his expression. “Oh calm down—you look like I just caught you jerking off or something.”

Even though the lighting is low, the way that Eren’s blush intensifies is obvious. “Shut up,” he snaps back in a heated whisper. He exhales hard and avoids Levi’s eyes. “It’s just… I dunno. You’re—really good and stuff.” His tone of voice says that he’d realized halfway through his sentence that he was sounding like an idiot, but now that the words are out there, he can’t exactly stop. He slumps in his seat and mumbles, “And I’m already not really sure what I’m doing. And now—”

“Kid,” Levi whispers, barely audible, but Eren still snaps his mouth shut. “I don’t care. You’re being stupid.”

Eren grinds his teeth in irritation. “Oh, right; I bet _you_ would be able to play a girl, no problem.”

Levi has the feeling that it had probably sounded much more insulting in Eren’s head, but he ignores the tone and answers honestly. “I’m not saying that that I’d have no issues with it, but it’s not even a problem in this situation. Penny was written as a girl, yeah, but the character isn’t rooted in their gender. Stop being such a little shit; Shadis didn’t call you back because of your outstanding lack of a penis, alright?”

“I _have_ a—“

“Oh my God, Eren, _shut up_. I’m trying to make a point here, idiot. Shadis thinks you have the potential to play the character, and that’s what he wants to see you do. Play the _character_. Last time I checked, ‘female’ wasn’t a character trait. Now,” he says, lightly tapping his script against Eren’s jaw. “I want you to shut your mouth and read your lines.”

They’re silent from then on, Eren looking over his scenes and Levi looking at Eren. There’s something fascinating about the way the kid’s eyes, deep and vivid, are practically dancing as they take in the words on the pages. He looks downright peppy now, back to the stupidly overeager little brat that he’d been yesterday, going around hitting gorgeously rich falsettos and yelling at people for stupid reasons.

 _‘Well,’_ he amends, watching when the Pennys are called to the stage to sing, and Eren leaps up from his seat. Levi is almost surprised when, so quickly that he almost misses it, he glances back over his shoulder and offers an earnest little smile that is both grateful and determined. _‘Not entirely stupid. I guess.’_

He doesn’t take his eyes off of Eren the entire time he is onstage.

~~~

“Alright!” Shadis shouts, hours later. “Last one of the night, and then you can all go home.” He pauses while groans of relief fill the room, and then he points to the stage and says, “The scene between Billy and Penny. Levi, read for Billy, and Eren, read for Penny. Take a minute and begin.”

They step forward, and Levi sneaks a glance at the clock. _‘Ten thirty. It’s ten-goddamn thirty. Goddamnit, I want to go home.’_ He shoots Eren a look that says, plain and simple, _‘Don’t fuck up,’_ and he blinks in mild surprise when the look that Eren gives him is smiling. _‘Weird,’_ he thinks fleetingly, turning his back to the kid and glancing down at the script; he holds it in front of him with both hands, stares intently, and waits.

He isn’t expecting the light touch on his shoulder, and he yelps in surprise. He spins around and meets a bright-eyed, equally startled gaze. “Ah! Hah… What?”

A surprised blink, and then, “Um, I-I was wondering if—if I could just…” Bottle-green eyes go almost impossibly wide, lighting up in recognition, and he grins. “Hey! I know you.”

Nervously, hands clutching a remote that isn’t there close to his chest, which suddenly feels impossibly light and filled with warmth. “Hello. You know me? Cool... I mean—” He coughs and feigns nonchalance, glancing away. “Yeah, you do. Do you?”

“…From the Laundromat.”

“Wednesdays and Saturdays, except twice last month, you skipped a weekend.” There is an awkward pause, and he coughs into his hand. “Or, you know, if that w _as_ you. Could have been someone else. I mean, I’ve _seen_ you.” An almost flustered breath. “…Billy. Is my name.”

“Penny,” the guy says with a devastatingly sweet smile. He offers his hand, but Billy’s are occupied, and the moment stretches until it’s uncomfortable. Penny puts his hand down and laughs a little, embarrassed. “Uh—what are you doing?”

“Um, texting! It’s—very important, or I would stop. What are _you_ doing?”

 _‘That grin could light up the entire fucking room,’_ he thinks, half-listening as Penny explains that he volunteers for the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter, and he spends the entire scene with that thought constantly trying to work its way to the front of his mind.

Their exchange goes as well as can be expected; both of them make do with the fact that their only props are the scripts in their hands, which they need to glance down at from time to time to get the next line. But despite the late hour and how tired everyone is, the audience is still engaged—they laugh at Billy’s awkwardness and smile at Penny’s kindness, but the real _moment_ comes at the end of the scene.

Penny has walked offstage, and Billy is turning to stare at the empty spot; the papers in his hand crinkle as he grips them tighter, and he hears more than one person in the audience suck in a surprised breath when his mouth turns up in a faint, soft smile. “He talked to me,” he breathes.

The air is still for the briefest moment before Levi blinks and finds himself back in reality, suddenly hyper-aware of the stage and the trip-hammer beat of his heart as it knocks out an uneven rhythm against his ribs. His face feels warm, but he attributes it all to the shaky rush of accomplishment from successfully completing a scene. _‘It’s been a while,’_ he tells himself. _‘A long while. You’re just not used to it. And you’re tired. Fucking exhausted.’_

Shadis dismisses everyone, and Levi is just about to hop down from the stage when the director is suddenly right in front of him, holding up a hand. “Just a minute,” he says before motioning turning and spotting Eren. “You too, Jaeger. Come here.”

If he wasn’t so eager to get home and crash, Levi would’ve found the terrified expression on the kid’s face funny. “Is something wrong, sir?” the kid practically squeaks. Shadis shakes his head no and glowers at the students who have been trailing behind, observing them curiously. They scramble to get out, except for Erwin; Levi spots him at the door and scowls at the cheerful wave that his friend gives him before leaving.

_‘Of course you’re cheerful, you fucking dick—you get to leave. Note to self: kill Erwin. Seriously. I mean it this time.’_

When everybody else is gone, Shadis motions them to the stage before sitting down next to Mr. Z. “How well do the two of you know the show?” he asks.

“Pretty well…” is Eren’s hesitant answer. He glances at Levi.

Levi shrugs and clicks his piercing once before giving a curt, “Same.”

Shadis nods thoughtfully and says, “You’ve worked hard tonight; humor me for a bit, and then you can go. I want to hear the Billy and Penny duet, starting from the last stanza. No need to perform; I just want to hear how it sounds. Can you do that?”

“Yep,” Levi answers, popping the ‘p’ and looking at Eren expectantly. The kid gulps but nods shakily and follows him to stand by the piano, where Ms. Brzenska is waiting. Levi elbows him in the side and points to the opposite side of the piano. “Go stand over there,” he orders.

Eren frowns. “What? Why?”

“I need to look at you,” he says, as if that should be obvious. Eren blushes, and Levi raises a brow at him and doesn’t say anything else.

Once Eren is in place, he glances at Ms. Brzenska, who tells him that it’s his start and she will follow. He nods jerkily and stares down at the ground for a second before looking up and meeting Levi’s gaze. His shoulders relax, just the slightest bit, and he begins to sing, “Take it slow…”

Levi comes in stronger on purpose, coaxing the kid to match him or risk ruining the balance of the song. As expected, Eren rises to the challenge, fixing his posture and taking proper breaths to support himself, coming in strong on the correct note instead of hesitantly fading in. They hold eye contact the entire time, Levi’s gaze steely and intense where Eren’s is warm and gentle; it’s not a performance, and yet, there’s something about the way they mirror each other in stance and voice that hints at something that is just as captivating as an actual show.

Their voices melt into silence after the last note, leaving nothing but a ringing echo. They blink at each other, almost surprised, before turning to look out at the director. He’s saying something to Mr. Z, who is nodding in agreement; then he looks at them and says, “Alright, you can go now.”

It’s eleven now, and if he weren’t so fucking eager to get some sleep, Levi would thank him for the dismissal; instead, he leaps off the stage—which almost ends up being a huge mistake, because it turns out to be a little bit more of a drop than he was expecting—and snatches up his backpack before booking it out of the auditorium. He’s practically sighing in anticipation of curling up in bed and sleeping for a solid seven hours when he hears his name being called.

Eren is stumbling after him, clutching his phone in his hand. “Um. It’s really late… uh—”

“And?”

“…Er—”

“Kid, I’m fucking exhausted; spit it out.”

“…Could I get a ride? Uh, please?”

Levi blinks once, slowly. “Ask your sister.”

Eren gives him an apologetic look and holds up his phone; a text from Mikasa is on the screen. _‘I’m going to bed now; I forgot how late you guys stay. Thank God I’m never going through that again.’_ A glance at the clock in the hall tells him that it had been sent over half an hour ago.

 _‘You’re walking if it’s close enough,’_ Levi thinks when he asks, “Where do you live?”

Eren looks hopeful now. “Maria Avenue,” he says, a lilt at the end that makes him sound unsure.

Levi fixes him with a withering look and mutters, “You live across town.”

“Yeah.”

“… Sucks to suck; don’t get mugged on your way home,” he says flippantly, turning and briskly walking away. He gets halfway down the hall before he stops and glances over his shoulder, snorting at the crestfallen look on Eren’s face. “Oh, Jesus, take a joke. Come on.” Eren bolts to his side like he honestly thinks Levi might change his mind.

Levi considers it, he really does. But they get to Levi’s car—the only one left in the student parking lot—and Eren hops in the passenger seat, mumbling his thanks.

“Don’t mention it,” Levi says as they leave. Not in the mood for conversation but needing something to keep him awake, he reaches over and turns on the radio, humming in pleasant surprise when ‘Miss Jackson’ fills the silence.

Of course Eren can’t keep quiet, though. “You like Panic! at the Disco?” Levi doesn’t do anything but nod, eyes still on the road. There is a beat, and then, “Have you listened to—”

“Kid,” Levi snaps, braking a little too harshly at a red light; Eren grunts when his seatbelt digs into him. “This ain’t Twenty Questions, alright? I’m tired. I want to go home. But first I’ve got to get you home, and if you keep talking, that won’t happen. Because I’ll strangle you. And then it’ll take me even longer to get home because I’ll have to hide your fucking body, and I am not up for that right now.”

Eren stares at him, wide-eyed. “…Um.”

Levi sighs and cuts his eyes at the kid. “I’m weird when I’m tired; deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, not the killing me thing, but the… uh. You know what I mean.”

“God, _Jaeger_.”

“Sorry.” Half of the song passes by before Eren repeats, “Sorry.” Except it sounds different, and Levi glances at him questioningly. Eren swallows and stares out the window. “I’m apologizing for yesterday. When I said you weren’t taking it seriously. You’re really, really good.”

Levi struggles for a moment with a reply, because the kid sounds _ashamed,_ and this is definitely unexpected. “It’s not a big deal,” he finally says, spotting Eren’s street up ahead. “I don’t take anything you say seriously, so.”

Eren laughs, and it’s a short but cheery sound. “Still. I can’t believe you’ve never done theater before.” Levi stays silent as Eren points him towards a nice brown house with a neat little yard on the end of the street, and he pulls into the driveway. Eren gathers his things and opens the door, but he doesn’t get out just yet. “I hope you get a part; you’d be great.”

Levi rolls his eyes and fiddles with one of the small, silver hoops in his ear. “Get out of my car.” Eren smiles and hops out, shutting the door behind him. It takes him a moment to think about it, but he rolls down the window and calls, “Hey, Jaeger.”

Eren stops and glances back. “Yeah?”

“You’re not too bad yourself.”

Levi watches the way Eren’s eyes light up, and the stupid grin on the kid’s face is almost enough to make his own lips quirk up in a faint smirk as he pulls out of the Jaegers’ driveway and heads home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I'm doing. But I kind of like it? Haha. I hope you enjoyed this chapter; thank you for reading!


	3. Know Your Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Note to self: can't kill Erwin and Hanji now. Damn.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet babies there is a lot going on in this chapter. Dear lord. I sat myself down and slammed this one out in a few hours because I know I'm going to have a depressingly small amount of time to write this weekend, so. I hope you enjoy it! Also, if you couldn't see who was getting cast as Bad Horse and Moist coming from a mile away well then idk what to tell you. -whispers- It's so perfect oh frick.

_‘Note to self,’_ Levi thinks, deliberately slumping on the horn of his car. _‘Kill Hanji. Seriously. Don’t even get new friends, just kill the two you have now and go live a quiet life as a hermit in the Rocky Mountains or something. Do it.’_

Hanji comes flying out the door then, backpack sagging off of one shoulder and a paper crumpling in her too-tight grip as she shouts, “Levi, stop it! You’re driving my babies crazy!”

Levi sits back up and the horn stops; he can hear the furious barking and howling of Hanji’s two Rottweilers, and he smirks into his thermos of coffee. Hanji swings the door open and clambers into the front seat, and Levi starts the car and says, “Good. Punishment for making me wake up even earlier than I did yesterday because you needed a ride, you shit.”

Hanji huffs and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with one hand, distractedly trying to smooth down the paper in her lap with the other. “I’m not going to say sorry, because you will forget all about it when you see the cast list.”

Levi glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “That it?” he asks, nodding to the paper; it’s face-down, contents hidden from his suddenly alert gaze.

Hanji hums and grins excitedly, answering with a drawn-out, “Yep.”

There is a full minute of silence before Levi deadpans, “You’re going to make me wait to find out who’s who until you’re actually taping it up to the fucking wall for everyone to check.”

Hanji’s only answer is a cackle, and he scoffs and forces his eyes back to the road. He maintains an uninterested expression for the rest of the ride, but when they hop out of the car and meet up with Erwin in the school’s lobby, Hanji points out that he’s been compulsively clicking his barbell against the back of his teeth for a while.

“Are you nervous?” Erwin asks, ignoring the irritated look that Levi sends his way.

“No,” is the curt reply. The piercing starts clicking again, but he stops immediately when Erwin and Hanji glance at him simultaneously, both of them looking amused. “Tch. Just anxious to find out whether or not I wasted the past two afternoons of my life, that’s all.”

“Aww, Levi,” Hanji says, throwing an arm over his shoulder.

“Ugh, don’t touch me.”

“I’m comforting you! There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“I _just_ said I’m not nervous. Off. Get off.”

“But _Levi_ —”

“Hanji, I swear to God—”

“Okay, okay!” Hanji laughs, releasing him as they’re turning the corner; there are already a few people there, waiting at the end of the hallway by the auditorium doors. Hanji bounds forward, shouting and waving the cast list in the air.

Levi waits behind her as she fumbles around in her bag for some tape, and there is a light tap at his shoulder. He turns and sees Eren, flanked by Armin and Mikasa. “Hey,” he greets, and his voice is a little rough.

Levi raises a brow at him. “Did you just wake up or something? That is the most ridiculous cowlick I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Armin smothers a laugh in his hand, and Eren blushes and pats his messy, brown hair self-consciously. “Shut up,” he mutters.

Levi snorts and turns back around just as Hanji is taping up the cast list. She hums triumphantly and gestures to it before stepping back to let people look for their names. Levi lifts his thermos to his mouth and starts guzzling coffee; it’s practically scalding his tongue, but the burn takes his mind off of the sudden heave his stomach gives as he steps closer to scan the names, starting at the bottom of the paper.

He reads the names of those in the ensemble and the Evil League of Evil. Someone leans over his shoulder and he glances over to see Eren laughing, chanting, “I knew it, I knew it!” He’s pointing at Jean Kirschtein’s name listed next to Bad Horse. Levi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, turning back to keep looking. His eyes scroll up the page; Sasha, Petra, and Armin make up the Captain Hammer Fanclub, and he looks and sees Armin beaming excitedly up at the paper. He snorts when he sees Connie Springer—a sophomore whose energy levels are on par with Sasha’s—listed as a part of the Bad Horse Chorus, along with Marco and a junior on the football team named Reiner Braun. Another junior and longtime theater member, Berthold Fubar, is listed as Moist, and Levi’s lips twitch as he thinks, _‘Oh my God, that’s perfect casting.’_

Levi feels like his lungs are being constricted; he doesn’t see his name yet, and there are only three roles left to check. He shuts his eyes, trying to pull together a neutral expression; he draws a steady breath into his lungs before he looks up. He nearly cracks a smile when he sees Erwin listed as Captain Hammer— _‘That fucking loser,’_ he thinks almost fondly. Then there’s a faint squeak right in his ear, and he feels Eren clamp a hand over his shoulder and practically sag against him, choking out a sharp, “Holy shit. _”_

Levi swallows hard and forces himself to look at the last two names, right up at the top.

_‘Eren Jaeger – Penny.’_

And—

“ _Holy shit_ ,” he hisses, echoing Eren. His stomach feels like it’s about to drop right out of his ass, and he tips his head back and runs an almost shaky hand through his neatly parted hair. “How the fuck even,” he says, and it’s the closest he’s ever come to sounding breathless. He feels like his brain has just blown a fuse, only to surge back to life and illuminate a single, blinding thought.

_‘Dr. Horrible. I’m Dr. Horrible. Holy fucking shit.’_

Levi inhales sharply and turns to look at Eren, the kid’s grip slackening before falling away as they stare at each other. “Do you have any idea,” Eren begins, voice trembling. He pauses to take an uneven breath, and Levi grimaces, wondering if the kid is going to throw up or cry or maybe both, because he sure as hell looks like it. He takes a step back. Eren huffs and then continues, voice rising in pitch, “Do you have any idea how fucking funny you’re going to look next to Bertholdt?”

There is a giant snort of laughter from Erwin, who quickly tries and fails to turn it into a believable coughing fit; Hanji isn’t anywhere near as considerate, guffawing loudly and slapping her knee repeatedly. Eren starts to shake, tears of laughter welling up at the corners of his eyes, which are shining brightly with amusement.

He laughs so hard that he hiccups and snorts, and Levi cuffs him around the back of the head and growls, “That’s fucking gross, and you’re fucking stupid. Can’t believe I have to work with a shit like you.”

“Sorry,” Eren gurgles, not sorry at all.

Levi scowls, but he lets it go because the kid is clearly slaphappy, and he does have a good reason to be. The last person who’d gotten a lead role as a freshman had been Erwin; it’s a big deal, and everyone knows it. Levi hangs around with Erwin and Hanji as more and more people show up, and he watches them look at the freshman that has managed to be cast as a lead with expressions ranging from amazed to mildly envious. Eren accepts the congratulations given with a pleased grin and a blush as he babbles excitedly to the other freshman who’ve been cast. Levi is more reserved in accepting the praise thrown his way, but only because he’s honestly a little bit shocked, and his friends can tell from his unblinking stare and stiff posture.

“I knew it,” Hanji says, nodding sagely.

“Obviously; Director Shadis e-mailed you the cast list last night.”

“Shut up, Levi. I meant I knew it before then!”

Levi lets out an inelegant snort and shakes his head. He glances up at Erwin and narrows his eyes. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That stupid look on your face says plenty; what, do you need to take a shit? Go to the fucking bathroom, you tool.”

Erwin is laughing at him again. “This is a whole new side of you, Levi. I had no idea your language gets even worse when you’re happy.”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“Okay.”

“I hate you.”

“Duly noted.”

Levi crosses his arms and glowers at the floor so he doesn’t have to see those dumb, proud smiles on his friends’ faces. There were plenty of things to be irritated about this morning; he’d woken up at an ungodly hour because he’d needed to give Hanji a ride, which meant that he’d had a little less time to meticulously prepare his morning coffee and hadn’t sweetened it enough— _and_ , he notices as he quietly takes a sip, it’s gone cold now. And even though he has to get through the entire school day _and_ a mandatory cast meeting afterwards before his weekend can start, somehow, he can’t find it in himself to be annoyed. He stares at nothing and lets out a faintly disappointed sigh.

_‘Note to self: can’t kill Erwin and Hanji now. Damn.’_

~~~

Just before the end of fourth period, Petra pops her head in the doorway of the classroom and hands a little pink pass to the teacher. She spots Levi just as she leaves and points, mouthing, “For you.” The teacher drones on with the lecture and drops the paper on Levi’s desk; it’s from Shadis and reads, _‘Come see me next period.’_

Levi sulks just a bit at the thought of having to give up part of his full-period lunch, but when the bell rings, he shoulders his backpack and heads for the man’s classroom. He frowns when he gets there and sees that, first of all, the door to the classroom is locked, and secondly, there is already someone waiting.

“Did you get a pass too?” Eren asks, holding up his crumpled slip of paper. He’s sitting down, back to the door and arms draped over his knees.

Levi drops his backpack to the ground and leans against the lockers; he flashes his own pass at Eren in confirmation before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Where’s Shadis?”

“There’s a note on the door that says he’s printing scripts and should be back soon,” Eren answers, staring at the floor. Surprisingly enough, that is all he says. The halls steadily empty, and the bell rings once more.

A few minutes go by, and Shadis still hasn’t shown up, so Levi has nothing to do but openly scrutinize Eren. If the kid is bothered by his staring, he doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t even _look_ up, his normally bright eyes a little flat and averted. Levi frowns. “What’s your problem?” he asks bluntly.

The kid seems to struggle for a moment before finally glancing up at him through his bangs and answering, “The love triangle in the show is between three boys.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

Eren’s nose scrunches up when his expression changes to one of confusion. “It’s just… I mean, some people… probably aren’t going to be at all okay with that. And I didn’t think about it until now, and—”

“Let me get this straight,” Levi cuts him off, inwardly wincing at the unintentional irony of his words. “You want to be a great actor, but you have a problem with playing a character who’s going to be gay?”

Eren gapes at him and blurts out, “I was talking about you!”

Levi’s mouth actually drops open in a little ‘oh’ of surprise; he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He snorts then, half amused and half incredulous as he says, “Kid, I’m gayer than Pixis. I don’t have any issues.” He watches Eren try to process this clearly shocking—at least, to him—information; never one to pass up an opportunity to have some fun, Levi deliberately walks over to the kid and slides down the door until he’s seated on the ground, too. He makes a show of stretching and then braces his hands on the floor, his right one purposefully placed between Eren’s back and the doorway. Eren takes in an uneven breath, and Levi leans in the same way he did at callbacks, lips stopping just shy of touching the brunette’s ear. His voice is low when he speaks. “Problem?”

The look on Eren’s face is _priceless._ “No,” he answers, but the way his voice lilts at the end makes it sound like a question. He struggles for a moment, and then he blurts out, “Really?”

Levi raises a brow and says nonchalantly, “Yeah. You know, I get that you’ve only gone here for like, a week and a half, but my love of dick is pretty common knowledge, so.” Eren blushes furiously and stares down at the floor, breath hitching in the back of his throat with a barely audible squeak—but Levi catches it. _‘Cute.’_ He blinks. _‘No. Stop that.’_

“Haven’t you ever heard of personal space?” Eren mumbles a bit snappishly. Levi snorts.

“You’re a theater kid now. There is no such thing as personal space.” He pauses thoughtfully before continuing, “Unless you plan on backing out now that you know I really wouldn’t be _acting_ like I’m gay. If it helps, people used to tell me I looked like a girl, so I’m sure you can just use your imagination. You might have trouble doing that with Erwin, though; the deep voice will probably fuck it up.”

Eren laughs loudly at that, forgetting that there are classes going on around them. He claps a hand over his mouth and snickers. “No, I’m not backing out. And I don’t—I don’t need to pretend anyone’s a girl. I’m… I’m not…” he trails off then, shoulder drawing up in a shrug that seems like a compulsive gesture rather than an unsure one.

“Oh,” Levi drawls, the word stretching into the space he makes between them when he rolls his eyes and leans away. “ _Someone_ needs to go to gay baby jail for being a big gay baby.”

Eren holds up one hand to signal that Levi should wait while he swipes away tears of mirth; his laughter is a satisfying sound. Finally, he composes himself enough to wheeze, “Shut up. You’re awful.”

“Horrible, actually,” Levi deadpans, and it takes a moment before Eren groans. He snorts and covers his mouth again as he grins, the pearly white of his teeth peeking out from between his fingers.

“Mikasa said you had no sense of humor,” he starts, eyes shining. “You do, though. It’s just really bad.” The corner of Levi’s lips twitches, and it’s as close as he gets to returning Eren’s smile before the sound of heavy footsteps reach their ears, and they look up to see Shadis turning the corner. They follow him into the empty classroom and stand before his desk as he drops a thick stack of scripts down.

Shadis takes one look at the pair of them and says right off the bat, “You’re not in trouble.” They barely relax before he adds, “Not with me, at least. There are a few reasons why I called you here. The first is, I want to know if I’ll be getting any angry phone calls from parents about this casting.” They shake their heads no, and Shadis nods once. “Alright. The second thing I want to know is, how do you two feel about it?”

There is a hesitant silence, and when Shadis raises his brows expectantly, Eren ventures, “Um… I’m okay with it, I guess. I mean, I’m mostly just nervous because this will be my first show. I don’t want to screw up.”

“If you don’t want to screw up, then don’t,” Shadis says bluntly, but not unkindly. “True, you’re new, and I’m taking a risk casting you—both of you,” he adds, glancing at Levi, “but I believe the risk is worth it, in this case. I’ll be honest with you; you two weren’t really on my radar for these parts. Not at the beginning of auditions. But at callbacks, you clearly understood the characters. I saw other performances where only a single dimension of the character was focused on, like Dr. Horrible’s evilness, or Penny’s altruism, and while that’s not bad, you two were the only ones who really went above that. You understand what I mean by that, don’t you? It didn’t look fake; you weren’t acting, you were being.

“Plus,” he continues, shuffling through the scripts. “I personally don’t think that the story changes even though the love triangle is between males now, but I’m sure some people will think it adds something unique to the show. Usually, we save the plays with—‘controversial,’ shall we say?—elements for the competitive season, but I’ve got a good feeling about this. And, you didn’t hear this, but I couldn’t give two shits whether or not it bothers anyone else, so long as it doesn’t bother you two.”

Levi shrugs and says, “I’m fine with it. I’m not the one who has to suck face with Erwin, so.”

Eren turns bright red, the thought obviously only just occurring to him. Shadis looks at him and says, almost exasperated, “Professional actors do a lot worse than kiss costars, Jaeger. If you’re accepting the role, then you’re accepting whatever the role entails. Are you going to be able to handle it?”

“I’m… I—I’ve just. Um. I—I’m fine. Yeah,” he finishes lamely, cheeks burning; Levi watches, amused, as the blush spreads over his entire face and creeps down the back of his neck.

Shadis looks dubious but doesn’t press him. He fixes Eren with a serious stare and says, “Well, welcome to the theater program here. It may sound harsh, but since you say you can handle the role, my advice to you is if you feel uncomfortable, get over it. Talk it out with your costars if you need to; you’re all going to be working to put on the best show possible, so get used to being around each other. No one’s saying you have to be best friends, but you have to be able to work well together. Expand on what I saw at callbacks, alright?” When they nod, he glances up at the clock; the period is almost half over. “Where are you two going?”

“Lunch,” they both reply before blinking in surprise at each other.

“Do I need to write you a pass to get to the cafeteria, or are you going off-campus?” Shadis asks.

“Off-campus,” Levi answers, and then he turns and looks at Eren, a question in his eyes.

Eren stares for a moment, looking unsure, but he adds softly, “Me too.”

Shadis nods and dismisses them with a curt, “Mandatory cast meeting here after school; don’t be late.” Eren follows Levi down the hall and they come to a stop at a row of lockers right next to the stairs.

“Let me get my books for my afternoon classes and we can go,” Levi tells him, fingers fiddling with the locker combination. Eren nods and awkwardly shuffles his weight from foot to foot. He opens his mouth to say something, but then decides against it; Levi catches the motion out of the corner of his eye. “What? Spit it out, kid.”

“You don’t mind me going with you?”

Levi waits until he slams the locker shut again and clicks the lock into place before looking at him and answering matter-of-factly, “I’m meeting Erwin at Taco Hell anyway. You might as well come with.”

Eren’s eyes light up with an almost puppyish eagerness as he falls into step beside Levi. “Am I allowed to talk in the car now?”

Levi snorts, “Well, not anymore you’re not. Smartass.”

He does it anyway; it’s a quick drive, since the Taco Bell is only two blocks away from the school. Erwin is already there, and surprisingly enough, so are plenty of other theater kids. They grab their food, and Levi finds himself seated at a large booth with everyone, right in between Eren and another senior on crew named Ymir. Naturally, conversation centers around the show.

“Ms. Nanaba says it’s good that the department’s going to save money on costumes this year,” a little blonde freshman named Christa says. “I was talking about it with her before first period, and anything that’s not street clothes can probably be found in the loft.”

“Is there a creepy horse mask up there for Jean? Not that he really needs it, but—”

“Fuck you too, Jaeger,” is the snappy reply, but Jean is trying not to laugh. Marco, seated next to him, remarks that the horse mask would actually be pretty funny, which prompts Hanji to start giggling.

“No, what’s funny is the way Levi is going to look standing next to Bertholdt.”

“Hanji, see if you ever get a ride to school from me again,” Levi growls, wadding up a napkin and throwing it at her; he misses, and it bounces off of Erwin’s shoulder. Levi doesn’t apologize, because Erwin is laughing along with everybody else.

“Jokes aside,” Petra says, “I think it’s really amazing how you two got cast as the leads. Especially you, Eren; it’s your first time acting, right?”

Eren looks up from his food, confused. “Yeah, but it’s Levi’s too, isn’t it?” When Petra gives Levi a surprised look, Eren turns to him. Levi’s gives him a flat look and steals his brownie sandwich in response; Eren whines in protest, looking sufficiently devastated.

Levi rolls his eyes when Eren keeps staring at him expectantly, though, and he waits until he’s swallowed his bite of dessert before saying neutrally, “I did theater for the first semester of my freshman year, which wasn’t at Shiganshina. I came here during the second semester.”

“Why didn’t you keep doing it?” Eren asks, honestly curious; from what he’s seen, Levi is a fantastic actor, and he can’t understand why he wouldn’t make the most of his talent. Levi’s gaze hardens warningly, and everyone—save for Erwin, Hanji, and Petra—begins to strike up conversations with each other, deliberately averting their attention. Eren frowns when Levi keeps eating, and he tries another question. “Where did you go before Shiganshina?”

Levi glances across the booth at his friends, and they all share a look before Petra speaks up again, albeit a bit more hesitantly than she had before. “He went to Sina.”

Eren coughs around a sip of his drink and sputters, eyes wide. “Sina?” he repeats incredulously. He turns to Levi, mouth agape. “As in, Sina Academy of Performing Arts?”

Levi looks disinterested as he nods once, but the compulsive clicking of his barbell is just audible enough to belie his expression.

“That’s…” Eren flounders for a bit, shaking his head slowly; this information is clearly almost too much for him to process, though he is trying his hardest to make sense of it. “I don’t get it. That’s a _really_ elite school, one of the best. Why did you leave?”

“Kid,” Levi bites out, and his tone is sharp enough to cut steel. Eren swallows hard, suddenly very aware that he has made a mistake in being so curious. “Has anyone ever told you before that you talk too much? Because you do. And it’s pissing me the fuck off.” The others have fallen silent now, and the only sound at the table is that of Levi crumpling up his food wrappers before tossing them in a nearby trash can. They still have plenty of time left for lunch, but he slides out of the booth and snatches up his backpack. He doesn’t even glance back at Eren when he says coldly, “I left something in my locker; get a ride back with someone else.”

Eren barely hears Erwin kindly offer to drive him back when they’re done. His eyes follow Levi out the door. He doesn’t know why it matters so much; they’ve known each other only for a few days, but that fact isn’t enough to stop Eren from feeling hurt when he thinks of how Levi had chased away his insecurities about the show with bad jokes barely an hour ago, and how different that version of Levi seems from the downright icy version pulling away from the parking lot right now.

He stares down at his half-finished meal and ends up tossing almost all of it out. He has the feeling that, despite his indifferent expression, he’d hurt Levi in some way, and he spends the rest of the lunch hour feeling too guilty at the thought to have much of an appetite anymore.

~~~

Levi is in a poor mood for the rest of the day, and by the time three o’clock rolls around, the last thing that he wants to do is sit down at a cast meeting that promises to be nothing but boring. He is one of the first people to reach Shadis’ classroom, and he stalks to an empty desk in a corner and takes a seat, electing to stare out the window and will time to go faster. People filter in bit by bit, but the only one who ventures close to him is Erwin. Levi shoots him a warning glare when he looks as though he’s about to speak, and Erwin holds up his hands in a placating gesture before sitting at the desk in front of him.

Levi’s brooding goes uninterrupted for a while longer until he hears someone shuffle up to the desk next to his; a little object wrapped up in napkins is gingerly placed in front of him, and he lifts his gaze to meet a pair of apprehensive green eyes.

“Sorry,” is the only thing that Eren says.

Levi stares at him unblinkingly.

“Um,” the brunette begins, swallowing hard and placing a hand at the back of his neck in a gesture of nervousness. “I didn’t mean to be nosy. I just—I don’t know. I just thought it was really cool that you went to a place like Sina, and I just wanted to know more about it, but… you know, I know that’s not an excuse for bugging you so much, or anything. So. I’m sorry.”

Levi watches him fidget, honestly a little pleased with the kid’s apology in all its awkward sincerity. From the stiff shoulders to the nervous gaze darting everywhere but at him now, it’s clear that what happened at lunch had been bothering Eren all day. Levi decides that his annoyance at the kid isn’t worth holding on to, but instead of verbally responding, he turns his head to look down at what Eren had placed on his desk. He takes the corner of the napkin and peels it off, and then he pauses.

“Is this the brownie from lunch?”

Eren looks a little mortified when he explains, “I didn’t know if you’d want to finish it later, or—”

“It’s been hours since then. That’s gross,” he tells him, but the corner of his lips is lifted in the faintest of smirks. He picks up the half-wrapped sweet and deposits it on the desk next to him. Eren stares at it, and Levi snorts and gestures to it. “I’m letting you have it. Dumbass.”

Eren blinks at him and sits down at the desk, and Levi can hear the beginnings of a smile in his voice when he says, “You’re ‘letting’ me have it? Well this thing was mine in the first place, so—hey!”

Levi focuses on how funny Eren’s indignant expression looks rather than how the brownie tastes a little stale, but he’s already shoved it in his mouth and spitting it out would be disgusting, so he chews it smugly and tries hard to suppress a smile.

“Does he always act like a big three year old?” Eren asks Erwin, who has been watching the entire exchange with an approving little smile.

“Worse,” Erwin responds, ignoring the sharp kick Levi gives the back of his chair. “You get used to it eventually.”

“How long did it take you?”

“About two years.”

“The both of you can fuck off,” Levi declares, crossing his arms and slumping in his seat. He rolls his eyes when they look at him like he’s just said something funny instead of insulting, but Shadis strides into the room then and calls everyone to attention.

The meeting is, much to Levi’s pleasant surprise, shorter than expected; schedules and scripts are handed out, and a phone number list is passed around and copied. Afterwards, Levi follows Erwin out of the room, half-listening to him talk about the possibility of having a Sunday practice at his house—which is really just code for everyone getting together to eat and hang out and maybe go over the script if they remember—when he feels someone tap him on the shoulder. He turns and there’s Eren, staring at him hopefully.

“No.”

Eren’s mouth is half-open, and his barely formed words choke off into silence. Then, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“Are you going to ask me for a ride home?”

“Well—”

“No.”

“But Mikasa has crew!”

“Ask your little friend.”

“Armin lives, like, a block away from here; he walks.”

“I can drive you home, Eren,” Erwin offers, and Eren beams at him in relief.

“Shut up, Erwin,” Levi says, and then he turns to look at Eren. “Fine. But this is not becoming a regular thing.”

Eren manages to keep his mouth shut for a few minutes on the ride home, but only because Levi has grudgingly allowed him control of the radio. He brakes hard at a stop sign on purpose, saying over Eren’s surprised yelp, “Stop; leave the song.”

Eren gapes at him; it’s an old Justin Timberlake song. “You listen to this kind of thing?”

“There’s not much I don’t listen to,” Levi tells him, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Pretty much anything except country. And screamo, I guess, although some of that’s okay.”

Eren stares at him for half of the song before he speaks again. “I really never would have guessed that you listen to stuff like this.”

Levi snorts. “Why? Is it because I look like this?” He gestures to himself with one hand, referring to his dark clothes and piercings.

“Well—” Eren stutters, unsure whether honesty is the best policy. But then Levi gives him a semi-amused look, and he admits, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Levi says, turning onto Eren’s street. “I look like this because black is definitely my color. And I look good with piercings, so.”

There’s a beat of silence before Eren asks, “Do you have a lot?”

“Just what you see on my face,” Levi answers, turning his head for a brief moment so Eren can see the two studs above his right eyebrow, along with the hoops and studs in his ears. He parks at the curb and turns back to Eren, adding, “And this one.”

The way that a deep blush creeps across Eren’s cheeks when he slowly sticks his tongue out to show him the barbell piques his interest, just a bit. He tries not to look smug when the kid sucks in a sharp breath and stares at it in a way that seems more than a little bit fascinated.

Eren ducks his head and mumbles, “Cool,” before he grabs his backpack and all but throws open the door. He hops out and pauses, spotting his mother in the yard and waving at her before turning to Levi, who is looking at him. “Um, thanks for the ride. And, uh—I am sorry about lunch.”

“Don’t mention it,” Levi says with an easy shrug. He nods at the woman in the yard, watching them, and asks, “Your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“You should probably go tell her that you’re a lead in the play,” he says, smirking faintly.

Eren beams at him and calls his thanks one more time before shutting the door and running to his mother. Levi watches for a bit, amused at the way the kid practically jumps up and down as he tells her the news; he knows the moment it happens because she shouts and throws her arms around him, hugging him tight. He starts the car and scans the road; his eyes flick briefly back to Eren and his mother, and then they widen in surprise when he sees that Eren is pointing at him, still talking. His mother looks over and gives him a sunny smile and a wave, pointing at her son and mouthing, ‘Thank you for driving him.’

Levi blinks, almost taken aback; the resemblance between Eren and his mother is astounding. He manages to return the wave before pulling away from the curb and making his way home. He thinks for a moment about the fact that, typically, the only feeling that accompanies him at the end of a Friday is immense relief that his two-day respite from school and its responsibilities has begun. Now, however, he almost feels a quick-thrumming energy pulsing in his veins; it’s impossible for him to relax.

Levi can admit to himself that it’s a surprisingly welcome feeling, to have something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do feel like this story will be equal parts about theater as well as about Levi and Eren. Because theater is awesome. So. Yes. Oh, and the song they were listening to in the car is 'My Love', just because I firmly believe that Levi's taste in music is just so friggin' eclectic and WEIRD that if he can jam to it, he'll listen to it. So yeah. ALSO headcanon for this that Levi is actually surprisingly vain, so of course he'll wear things that he knows he'll look good in. Because fuck everyone, he's fabulous. Yes. Thank you for reading!


	4. Development

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Note to self: go home and commit ceremonial suicide, because you have a thing for a freshman. You’re a fucking loser.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo. I wanted to try to finish this last night so that it would be up on the first, but Microsoft Word was giving me grief. 2spoopy. ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED I JUST WANNA POST IT sooo any mistakes are mine, and I will read it completely through when I get back from class and fix 'em. The Jessie J song is 'Domino', btw. And the song near the end is 'Top of the World' by The Cataracs. ALSO ALSO I'm tracking a tag on tumblr, 'fic: keep your head up', soooooo yeah -rolls away-

Promptly at noon that Sunday, Levi pulls into the driveway of Erwin’s big-ass house for what is supposed to be their first weekend rehearsal. Despite not having been an official member of the program in the past, he’s always showed up because he was of the opinion that few things in life were more boring than having nothing to do on a Sunday afternoon. He steps onto the porch and balances his two giant boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts with one hand and repeatedly presses the little white doorbell with the other; he spares a glance around and doesn’t see any other cars. _‘Am I seriously the first one here?’_

The door swings open then, and Erwin stares down at him in exasperation. “You can take your finger off the doorbell now.” Levi smirks at him and gives it one last push before stepping into the entryway. “You must be in a good mood, buying doughnuts for everyone.”

The truth is that Levi actually _is_ in a good mood, because he fakes an expression that could almost be called innocent and holds up the boxes. “Who said these were for everyone?”

“You trying to be funny is not just unexpected—it’s also worrying.”

“Shut up. Am I the first one here?”

“No,” Erwin answers, opening up the top box and taking a chocolate cruller. “Eren and Armin are downstairs; you can go wait with them. Be nice. Don’t break anything.”

“Alright, _mom_.” Levi rolls his eyes and leaves, tromping down the stairs to the media room. Although the Smith house is one of the biggest in the neighborhood—the family is not only comes from money in the first place, but Erwin’s father is a well-respected politician—Levi has spent enough time there in the past few years that it almost feels like a second home by now. It’s also always blessedly clean.

The first thing he sees when he steps into the room is the main menu of Dr. Horrible up on the massive TV; the second thing is a head of messy brown hair peeking over the top of the couch. Levi walks over and places the boxes in Eren’s lap with a quick, “Hold these,” before heading for the stereo against the wall. He fiddles with it for a moment before a Jessie J song comes on, bass thumping, and he nods in satisfaction.

“Levi,” comes Erwin’s voice from upstairs, muffled. “I told you not to touch anything.”

“You told me not to _break_ anything,” he shouts back, plopping onto the couch and throwing his arms over the back. He looks down and sees Armin sitting on the ground against Eren’s legs, flipping through his copy of the script. “Hey kid.”

Armin looks up and gives him a shy smile—the kind that says he was unsure he was allowed to talk—and he responds with a quiet, “Hi, Levi.”

Levi grabs a box off of Eren’s lap and hands it to Armin, who looks almost startled and doesn’t move. Levi gets that shyness is a thing for some people, but it still doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes and impatiently waving the box in his face. “C’mon, pick what you like and stick the rest on the table.”

Armin smiles a little wider this time and visibly relaxes a bit. He takes the box and mumbles a thank you, and Levi nods and flops back before looking at Eren. _He_ still looks uncomfortable, sitting stiffly and bright eyes wide and nervous.

Levi snorts and flips open the second box to take a doughnut. “Jaeger, the bathroom is up the stairs and to the left. Quit looking so fucking constipated.”

Eren huffs and mutters, “Shut up.”

“Eren always gets weird in unfamiliar homes,” Armin says by way of explanation.

“I’m not being weird; it’s normal to be uncomfortable in strange houses!”

“Relax, kid,” Levi drawls, crossing his legs and tossing his arm over the back of the couch again. He smirks when Eren flinches at the movement. “You’re fine. First time I was here, I accidentally knocked over an urn that had great-grandma Smith’s ashes. Why do you think we’re having this thing while Erwin’s parents aren’t home? They banned me from the house, so it’s gotta happen when they won’t know I’m around.”

“Seriously?”

“No. God, you’re dumb.”

Armin is shaking with laughter, face buried in his script. Eren’s face reddens, half in embarrassment and half in indignation, and he shoots him an accusing look. Armin wheezes an apology, but doesn’t stop laughing.

Levi taps the back of Eren’s head to get his attention; his hair is surprisingly soft. He actually wrestles with the idea of running his fingers through it, just to see what kind of reaction it will get from Eren, but then he wonders exactly _why_ the thought is so entertaining—appealing, really—and he lowers his hand. “Your sister’s not coming?” he asks, remembering that the question had been the reason he’d tapped Eren on the head in the first place. Even though Sunday meetings fall under the technical label of ‘rehearsal’, they are always open to both cast and crew—and of course, Levi, although now he’s actually there because he needs to be, rather than because he has nothing else to do.

“She’s at work,” Eren answers. “But she says she’ll come by after her shift. She doesn’t get off ‘til six, though; are we really going to be here that late?”

“Even later,” Levi tells him. The doorbell chimes upstairs, the sound just barely audible over the music. There is a loud scream that sounds like the word ‘doughnuts’, Levi snorts and nudges Eren with his arm, saying, “I would pick what you want to eat now, before it’s gone.”

Sasha practically tumbles down the stairs and slams her hands on the back of the couch, shouting excitedly, “Levi, you brought doughnuts!”

“Well spotted.”

Connie comes down the stairs much more calmly and greets everyone just as Sasha sinks to her knees and stares imploringly at Eren, who is still holding the box. “Can I have some? _Please_?” she whispers, and Eren’s eyes widen in alarm when Sasha starts tearing up.

Connie starts laughing and reaches over to snatch a doughnut, waving it teasingly in front of her before taking a bite and mumbling around it, “Sasha, cut it out. He’s gonna think you’re crying for real.”

Sasha sighs and grins apologetically, “Okay, so I can cry on command. But I really _will_ cry if that cinnamon twist over there isn’t mine. Please? _Please_?”

Eren smiles nervously and holds up the box for her, and she snatches it happily and runs over to sit down with Connie and Armin, shouting her thanks. Levi rolls his eyes and says in a deadpan tone, “This is why I bought two boxes.” He cuts his eyes at Eren and frowns; the kid still looks like something is bothering him. He leans in so the only person who can hear him over the music is Eren, and he murmurs, “You sure the only thing bothering you is the unfamiliar house?”

Eren shivers and inhales a bit sharply before he turns his head, bright eyes directly meeting his own. They are very open, honest as his answer is. “I guess not.” They stare at each other, and although Levi isn’t saying anything out loud, Eren knows that the way he carefully raises a single brow is actually an invitation to speak, to say what’s on his mind.  “Mikasa always tells me that I never think things through.”

“Shocker.”

“Shut up. I mean… I guess, yeah, I can do things that are pretty impulsive.”

“Like yelling at a stranger?” Levi offers, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Eren huffs and bites back a smile. “Whatever.” He looks away then, shoulders slumping a bit. “I just feel like I didn’t really consider what I was getting myself into, trying out for the show. Everyone seems really close comfortable around each other. How do I…” He struggles with his words for a moment, mouth open and brow furrowed as he tries to gather up his insecurities into a coherent form. “How do I fit in with that?” There is a beat of silence only between them, and then he releases an almost-exasperated breath through his nose and says, “I sound like a kid.”

“You do,” Levi responds matter-of-factly. He shrugs, the bare skin of his forearm brushing against the base of Eren’s neck with the movement. More people are showing up now—Hanji and Petra wave at him when they come down the stairs, followed by Bertholdt, Reiner, and another junior from crew named Annie. Levi watches everyone move around, comfortable conversations filling the spaces in the room, and he can see easily why someone new would be intimidated by the dynamic of the program.

“Eren,” he begins, and those big, bright eyes snap to his face. “You’re not the only new person here,” he tells him, nodding his head at Armin, who is laughing at something Sasha and Connie are doing. Over by the stereo, another freshman—a girl with pigtails whose name he doesn’t remember—is talking with Annie; they’re both smiling. He turns his head to look at Eren again, and now the brunette is staring at the others with something like muted envy in his eyes. “You’re not good with people, are you,” Levi says, though it sounds like a statement rather than a question.

Eren answers anyway with a quiet shake of his head. Then, sheepishly, “When I was little, it was a lot worse. My dad used to joke that my attitude was the reason why I only had one friend.”

Levi snorts, eyes softening a bit in amusement. “Wow. I’m picturing you in kindergarten, running around and yelling at the other kids for, like, not finding a use for the white crayon because it tries just as hard to be a crayon as all the others do. Stupid shit like that, that a little brat would care about.”

“I don’t always yell, you know!” he shouts, and then he turns bright red when he realizes the irony of his actions. He looks pacified, though, when he hears Levi laugh. It’s quick, and obviously at his expense, but he doesn’t feel annoyed by it when he catches a glimpse of an honest smile on the other boy’s face.

“You’re an idiot,” Levi says, the faint evidence of his smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. “You’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say. Everyone already likes you.” Levi looks at him and slowly raises a brow; Eren rolls his eyes and mutters, “Okay, everyone already _knows_ you.”

“Yeah, and my point is that I wasn’t even a theater kid until two days ago. Erwin might be my best friend, but that didn’t change the fact that I was an outsider. If everyone can accept an outsider, of course they’re going to accept a newbie like you, especially because they know you’re not only talented, but you’re also dedicated. Maybe you won’t be best friends with everyone, but you’ll still have a group of people who’ll give a shit about you. Not everyone is like that.”

Eren is watching him, a small frown making its way onto his face. “Were the people at Sina like that?” he asks carefully, almost flinching when Levi shoots him a sharp glare. The lack of any other response answers his question, and he hastily whispers an apology.

Levi rolls his eyes and tilts his head back, staring at the white ceiling. “You need to know when to stop asking questions.”

“I know.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

Levi watches Eren out of the corner of his eye, observing the way he clutches at the script in his lap. He’s tense again, shoulders drawn up a bit and eyes down. Levi doesn’t think about why it bothers him so much, but he knows that it does, and so he says, “I might tell you about it eventually. Who knows. Just know that it’s not important, and it really doesn’t have anything to do with you, so.”

Eren tries not to look disappointed when he nods and says, “I know. I promise I won’t ask about it again.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep; I’ve known you for a week, not even, and you run your mouth off practically every time I see you. You have no fucking clue how to be quiet.”

“You’re the one who’s being all talkative today,” Eren retorts.

“You don’t know me well enough yet; I’m always talkative. The difference between me and you is that I know when to keep my mouth shut. Brat.”

“Midget.”

Eren yelps in surprise when Levi grabs his hair and gives it a sharp yank, saying, “I’m going to be nice and let that one slide, because I know your sister will try to kick the shit out of me if I give you a black eye, and I’m feeling lazy today, so.”

“Levi,” comes a warning voice; he glances over and sees Erwin following the last few stragglers down the stairs, a disapproving look on his face. “I told you to be nice.”

“But _mom_ ,” he mock-whines, letting go of Eren’s hair.

“Levi, you’re supposed to act like you’re in love with him,” Hanji jokes, giggling with Petra.

“The most difficult challenge of my Shiganshina acting career.”

“Hey!”

“ _Alright_ ,” Erwin cuts off whatever Levi’s response to Eren’s indignant shout would have been. “I think that just about everyone is here, so—Levi, knock it off.”

“Why am I the one you call out?”

“You’re supposed to be a role model now; get used to it,” Erwin says cheerfully, smiling when Levi rolls his eyes and slumps down into the couch cushions without another word. He turns back to the room at large and says, “Okay, first off, welcome to the first of many Sunday practices. For those of you who are new to the program, yes, these will probably happen every week, and no, it’s not all work and no play. Since we haven’t even had an actual rehearsal yet, the only mandatory things on the agenda for today are going to be watching the movie and reading through the script. We’ll order food, do all that stuff, and then just hang out for as long as we want. My parents won’t be back until past midnight, so feel free to stay late. Sound good?”

There’s a collective murmur of agreement from everyone, and after they’ve all decided to order pizza, Erwin says, “Okay, we have a little while before it gets here, so I think a good thing to do would be to introduce ourselves. Get to know each other; we’re all going to be working together for the next month and a half or so to put on the best show possible. I’ll start; I’m Erwin, I’m a senior, and I’ve been in the program all four years. I’ll be playing Captain Hammer.”

Next to him, Hanji grins and waves at everyone. “Hello! I’m Hanji, and I’m also a senior who’s been in the program for all four years—in crew, though; I’m a terrible actor. I’m the stage manager this year, so all you crew kids, get ready to work hard!”

It goes on for a while, and Levi takes the time to memorize the names and faces of every cast and crew member, feeling a peculiar mix of pleasant surprise and almost-bewilderment as he observes them all. Erwin had told him for years, and he had been around to see it for years: the Shiganshina High Theater Program was full of nothing but the most close-knit, ridiculously accepting group of people. He watches the faces of the freshman, hesitant and half-whispering in their introductions only to beam happily when they see that they are being listened to, and that their presence is genuinely appreciated. It’s the same for every single one of them.

And then there’s Eren. Levi watches him closely and can see that he is faking self-confidence when he sits up straight and announces, “I’m Eren, and I’m a freshman. This is my first year in the program. I’m going to be playing Penny.” It’s so subtle that if he had blinked, he probably would have missed it—but Levi sees the almost-flinch and hears a slight hitch in his breathing. For the briefest of moments, fear flashes by in those big, bright eyes. He looks like he expects someone to laugh at him.

Another freshman with shining red hair—Hannah, Levi recalls—beams at him and says, “That’s really amazing, Eren! Getting a lead role for your first show here; have you acted at all before now?”

“No,” he answers, and several people murmur things like ‘cool’ and ‘talented’, and his eyes flick to Levi. He looks a little bit alarmed, clearly not expecting people to think he was _cool_ ; clearly, he hadn’t expected—hadn’t even wanted—people to start looking at him the way that they looked at the more experienced actors. And so, Levi scoffs loudly and waits for all eyes in the room to snap to him.

“That’s neat and all, but the last time a freshman got a lead role, it was Erwin,” he says, narrowing his eyes at Eren. “We don’t need another one of him. Seriously.” Eren still looks startled, and Levi tilts his head as he examines him. “Huh. Your eyebrows could give his a run for their money, though; these are some weird parallels I’m seeing here.”

Everyone laughs, but Eren’s soft grin is the only reaction he’d been aiming for. “Just introduce yourself, you jerk,” he says through a laugh.

Levi rolls his eyes and says, “I’m Levi. A senior. This is my first year in the program, and I’m Dr. Horrible.”

“With a PhD in horribleness,” Erwin quips, just as the doorbell chimes upstairs.

Levi stands up before he can, lightly tapping the back of Eren’s head with his palm as he says, “We’ll go get the food. Come on, kid.”

Thankfully, Eren follows without complaint, although he stares at Levi questioningly the entire time. Levi pays the delivery boy with his own money and takes the stack of boxes from him, nodding at Eren to shut the door. Instead of going back down the stairs to the media room, though, he detours into the kitchen and sets down the food on the spotless granite countertops. He turns around and sees Eren in the doorway, still looking confused. Levi leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really was going to tell you some other time. Probably. But you looked so fucking pathetic down there introducing yourself that I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

Eren blinks, but he doesn’t speak.

He lets out a heavy sigh and says, “I was expelled.”

“… What?”

Levi narrows his eyes and clicks his barbell against the back of his teeth. “Keep up, kid. You wanted to know what happened, so I’m telling you; I was expelled.”

Eren’s eyes light up in realization when the pieces fall into place, and he gapes at Levi. “Sina _expelled_ you?”

“For the third fucking time, yes. I told you the other day I came to Shiganshina my second semester of freshman year.”

“What did they expel you for?”

“Are you gonna shut up for two fucking seconds so I can actually tell you?”

Eren ducks his head and whispers, “Sorry.”

Levi frowns at him but shakes his head and continues as if he hadn’t spoken. “I don’t come from a really rich family or shit like that, but my parents were happy with enrolling me in Sina because I had a talent, and they wanted to encourage me. It helped that I had a decent scholarship, too. But it was obvious that I was still a poor kid, compared to everyone else in that school.

“Anyway, the story is that I tried out for a show and got a part. A main part. And over there in Sina, they do things differently. It’s not some big, happy family where everybody gets welcomed with open arms no matter what; it’s actually really, really shitty. There’s a hierarchy, and they don’t like it when you fuck it up. So when a freshman gets a main part, of course there are some people that get pissed and try to do something about that. A couple of older guys cornered me one day, on campus, and they tried to beat the shit out of me. I fought back, hard. You see where this is going, don’t you?”

Eren’s brow is furrowed, a tiny, worried frown on his face that Levi doesn’t know what to make of; why be worried about something that happened years ago? The kid nods silently and waits for him to continue.

Levi looks down at the counters and wipes at dirt that isn’t really there, just to give his hands something to do. “They ended up worse off than I did; a bloody face and a sprained wrist wasn’t too bad for me to deal with. But in hindsight, them losing the fight so badly probably only helped their case. They painted me as the bad guy, the one who started it, and when you’ve only got one person’s word against everybody else’s, and everybody else is older and richer, you know how things will end up. So they kicked me out. My mom transferred me to Shiganshina, specifically because of their program, you know. Affordable school, probably the best theater program in the state. All that good stuff.”

There is a pregnant pause, and Eren finally steps into the room. He makes his way to the counter carefully, like Levi is a wild thing that he doesn’t want to scare off, not when he’s being so surprisingly open over something that had him storming out of lunch the other day. Then again, now Eren can see why he was so angry, and he feels grateful—and a bit melancholy—that his own first experience with theater is so different from Levi’s. He mimics Levi’s pose, their shoulders bumping against each other, and asks, “So why didn’t you try out for anything here for so long?”

Levi shrugs and keeps his eyes away when he answers, “I didn’t think it would be different. And then I met Erwin and Hanji, and they latched onto me like a bunch of weird-ass leeches because they’d heard about what happened at Sina. Tried to get me to join here, but I kept saying no. For whatever reason, they accepted that I wasn’t going to join, but they still wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Did you ever think about changing your mind, after the first year?”

Another shrug. “I guess. I mean, I’ve almost always been at all the Sunday practices every year. Seen every show, too. I wasn’t a part of it, but this was still the group of people that I spent the most time with. But I figured things were okay the way they were, so why risk it?”

“You can’t just assume something’s going to turn out badly,” Eren snaps, turning fully towards him. “If you never try anything, you’ll never accomplish anything.”

“Easy, killer,” Levi says, and he sounds something close to amused. He looks at him then, a faint softness in normally steely eyes. “I’m already here, so there’s no point in getting all self-righteous about something that doesn’t even matter anymore, you little shit.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then why are you telling me?” Eren asks, and his tone is more curious than confrontational this time.

“You looked like you expected to get shit from someone down there,” Levi answers. “I don’t know if it’s because you’re a freshman or because you were still hung up on the ‘Penny was written as a girl’ thing, but whatever the reason, you looked scared.”

They stare at each other, Levi waiting with an expectant brow raised. Eren’s cheeks redden a bit, and he is the one who looks away first, staring down at his shoes and quietly admitting, “I was, kind of.”

Levi nods and tells him seriously, “Don’t be. I can tell you better than anyone that the people in this program are nothing if not ridiculously caring. They’re all about the ‘theater is one big family’ motto, more than any other group I’ve ever seen. It’s nauseating, really.”

Eren laughs then and remarks, “You’re doing a surprising job of following it, though. You’re talking to me and telling me I have nothing to worry about. Do I matter that much?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Levi snaps, flicking him on the forehead. “You just looked fucking stupid down there, all worried and shit, so. I don’t know why I bothered, really—the first time we met at auditions, I didn’t even remember your name for like, half the time. Called you Bright-Eyes in my head.”

Levi is saved from feeling like an idiot for admitting that out loud when Eren blushes endearingly. He clears his throat and tries to sound casual when he says, “You know, people always have this thing about my eyes. I don’t get it. I mean, they sometimes change color depending on the light, but—”

“Have you looked in a mirror? Ever? They’re also weirdly huge. You know that’s only supposed to be a thing when you’re a newborn, right? You’re meant to grow into them. Freak.”

“Hey! I’m not going to take that from a guy wearing as much eyeliner as you are.”

“Fuck you, Jaeger, I’m not going to go around looking tired all the time just because I have heavy-lidded eyes,” Levi counters, elbowing him in the side. “Besides, you’re in theater now, dumbass. You’ll be wearing makeup soon enough. Thank God for that, by the way; if I have to act like I’m attracted to you, you’re gonna have to be good-looking.”

“Should I tell Christa to focus on my chin, then? Since that’s what you’ll be eye-level with.”

Levi makes him carry all the pizzas downstairs for that one. If anybody is curious as to why they were gone so long, nobody says anything about it; all he gets is a little look from Erwin that says, _‘Everything alright_?’ Levi responds with the tiniest shake of his head that means, _‘Fine_.’ And it is fine. It’s unnoticeable to anyone who’s not paying close attention, but Levi can tell that Eren is a little more comfortable now. When someone says something to him, he doesn’t flinch away from them; he just relaxes further into the couch and doesn’t hesitate to answer everything with a smile or a movement that will have him bumping into Levi’s arm thrown over the back. Sometimes he throws a little glance to the side at Levi, and he’ll only smile wider, gaze half grateful and half something else that makes Levi wonder.

He only spends about half of the practice wondering, though. They watch the movie twice, once for the information and the second time to goof around, mouthing all the lines they know—which, in Levi’s case, really is _all_ the lines—and singing along to the songs. Then they do a read-through, which takes a little longer than it should, but that’s only because people keep breaking character to make a funny comment here or there. No one minds, though, because the mood is so warm and fun that, even though everything they’d planned to get accomplished actually _has_ been, no one leaves.

For the second half of the practice that can’t really be called a practice anymore, Levi has moved on from wondering to having a feeling. People have gotten up and shifted around the room thanks to Sasha cranking up the volume on the stereo and starting an impromptu dance party, but Levi stays on the couch, perfectly content with just observing everyone the way he always has. At least, that is his plan until a really good song comes on and Petra bounces over to pull him and Eren up and into the group.

“Seriously,” Eren has to shout over the music when Levi mouths the lyrics, “Is there anything you _don’t_ listen to?”

Levi almost smiles at him and answers, “I’m cultured. Oh my God, you really can’t dance, can you?”

“Shut up, I just don’t know the song that well!” is the embarrassed reply.

“Just follow the rhythm with your hips, you fucking loser,” Levi tells him, grabbing him by the waist and forcing himself not to laugh at the audible squeak the kid makes. _‘Cute,’_ he idly thinks, pushing Eren to match his movements until he’s sure he can dance without looking like an idiot. “You’ve gotta know how to move if you’re going to be in more shows, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eren grumbles, pressed a little closer with the crowd. His cheeks are red. The bass drops and he yelps when everyone starts moshing, getting an elbow to the head. He sees Levi laughing but can’t hear it over the music and the shouting. Levi grabs him by the collar and tugs him close enough to tease him for not being able to keep up, but he also doesn’t really hear that over either the pounding bass or his pounding heart, and he’s not really sure which.

By the end of the night, Levi has moved on from having a feeling to being pretty certain. But, the certainty doesn’t come until around ten thirty, when they’re all watching Dr. Horrible for the third time. He’s back on the couch, legs crossed and arms thrown over the back, when Eren slumps over next to him and his head lands on Levi’s shoulder. He’s fallen asleep, and Levi doesn’t even smirk at how uncomfortable the position must be; he’s staring at those eyes, closed now, with long, dark lashes fanning out over tanned cheeks. And then he’s certain.

_‘Note to self: go home and commit ceremonial suicide, because you have a thing for a freshman. You’re a fucking loser.’_

No one else has noticed, though, so Levi lets him sleep for a fourth of the movie until he jolts awake and nearly smacks into his jaw. “Geez, kid,” he hisses, narrowing his eyes at him.

Eren blushes _hard_ , whispering a half-intelligible apology.

Levi rolls his eyes, saying without thinking, “Don’t shit yourself over it, Bright-Eyes. It’s fine.” He stares at Eren, refusing to feel embarrassed for the slip of the tongue, and thinks that if any more blood rushes to the kid’s head, it’s going to explode. Eren opens his mouth and struggles for a bit, but then he closes it again and gives a jerky little nod before turning back to the movie.

They don’t say anything else until it’s close to midnight and everyone is going home. Levi passes Eren on the way out to his car and murmurs, “See you tomorrow, Bright-Eyes.” He admits to himself that he is definitely hoping for a reaction, and it’s exactly what he gets; Eren looks at him and grins, but there’s a shy little softness in his gaze that almost makes Levi pause.

He drives home with his mind almost a complete blank and a surprisingly light warmth in his chest that he isn’t sure how to welcome.

But.

If he’s being honest with himself, it’s pretty welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nOBODY LOOK AT ME.


	5. One Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘We’re a pair of idiots,’ he thinks almost gravely, dragging a fry through the ketchup in creative patterns. ‘Fuck me sideways. I’m getting emotionally confused over a fifteen year old kid. My life is spiraling out of control.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME USEFUL INFORMATION: Their rehearsal schedule for the first month is, rehearsals on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from 6 to 9 PM (so anyone who is involved in a sport or some other program doesn't have conflicts). Yeah. I JUST WANTED TO POINT THAT OUT okay okay I hope you enjoy this because I for some reason am more worried about this chapter than others? -whispers- maybe because i haven't edited it yet i am trash IGNORE MISTAKES I WILL FIX THEM. ANYWAYS.

The first week of rehearsals rolls by surprisingly fast, in Levi’s opinion—fast enough to consume most of his time and more or less drag his thoughts away from the fact that yes, he is most definitely attracted to Eren Jaeger. In fact, he’d been using this information in the most practical way possible for the better part of the week, drawing from it in practice whenever Dr. Horrible or Billy had spoken of or interacted with Penny. But just after Shadis dismisses everyone for the week on Thursday night, he calls Levi over.

“Before Monday, I want you to film Dr. Horrible’s first video blog entry three times and e-mail them to me, alright? You don’t need a costume or props, though the latter is recommended; I just want to see what you do with the scene and I’ll give you my notes on Monday.”

This is an expected assignment; for the show, all of the video blog entries will be up on a huge projection screen hanging high above the stage in their gym, so of course Shadis wants Levi to practice those scenes just as he would any other. But Levi frowns and says, “One problem. I don’t have a webcam.”

“I do,” Eren announces, almost flinching at the two serious stares directed his way—although, it’s really more because of Shadis, who he still finds completely terrifying. It might be the lack of eyebrows. “Um, if you want, you could come over this weekend and use my laptop to record,” he offers.

“Good, figure something out,” Shadis says as he gathers up his notes from rehearsal. He orders them to get home, get their homework done, and sleep—this has become his usual way of wishing everyone a good night without actually saying the words. Levi sometimes wonders if it’s because the director wants to maintain the appearance of being intimidating and in charge, but he has the sneaking suspicion that Shadis actually cares about everyone’s wellbeing more than he’ll ever let on. Still, he turns to Eren, who has been dawdling, and says, “Hey kid, wanna get some food?”

Eren blinks in surprise, but the beginning of a pleased smile is edging its way onto his lips. “Right now?”

Levi gives him a withering look and responds, “No, in a few hours. Of course right now, you dipshit. C’mon, go ask Armin if he wants to come with and let’s get out of here.”

Eren darts off to where Armin is chatting with Sasha and Petra, and Levi turns around to look for Erwin. He frowns in annoyance when he realizes that Erwin must have already left, because there’s no sign of him in amongst the few students still milling about in the gym that has become their performance space for the next month and a half. Despite Shiganshina High having one of the best theater programs in the state, Levi finds it extremely ironic that they technically don’t even have a theater. Their auditorium is useful for auditions and the competitive season’s productions that can fit on a smaller stage and have a static set, but there isn’t a decent backstage area and the space is too small for the big, flashy musicals of the fall season. Instead, they practice and perform in the biggest gym—much to the chagrin of the sports programs—because it has plenty of space for their numbers, and a giant stage that can really only be called that in the most basic sense of the word. Still, they work with what they have, and they work well.

All three members of the Captain Hammer Fanclub end up tagging along, and they happen to run into some crew members that have just finished up with their own meeting, so Mikasa and Hanji join the group. They drive to the McDonald’s a few blocks away from the school, Levi rolling his eyes over Eren and Armin mock-arguing over who gets to sit shotgun before he orders both of them into the backseat and lets Mikasa sit up front.

“Don’t make me regret letting you shits in my car,” he threatens only half-seriously.

“Eren is the problem child.”

“Shut up, Armin!”

“ _How_ ,” Levi stresses, glancing at Mikasa. “How do you deal with this every day?”

“You learn to ignore Eren whenever he shouts. Which is often.”

“I do not!”

“I’m still wondering how the hell Shadis thought you could be a believable Penny when you’re such a loudmouth little shit,” Levi says lightly, braking hard at a red light on purpose and snickering when Eren yelps and tumbles forward. “Put on your seatbelt, you stupid fuck.”

“Levi, don’t talk to him that way. Eren, listen to Levi.”

Levi gives her a flat stare, never one to enjoy being ordered around, especially not by someone younger than he is. From the backseat, Armin laughs cheerfully at Eren’s disgruntled complaints about being ganged up on. “Quit trying to act like Mom, Mikasa.”

“I’m not; Mom is better at putting up with you than I am.”

“Your mother must be a saint,” Levi mumbles, pulling into the parking lot.

Mikasa smiles and scoffs, “You have no idea. Especially lately, when all Eren does is talk about rehearsal, and ‘Levi said this’, ‘Levi said that—’”

“I do _not_!” Eren protests, his ears burning red. Levi suppresses an almost-smile into his hand, forcing himself not to feel too smug at this little tell of Eren’s that he’s noticed this past week—when he lies, his ears go red.

“Don’t worry, Eren,” Armin says, patting his friend on the shoulder reassuringly. “Hero worship is understandable.”

“The words ‘hero worship’ and ‘Levi’ don’t even belong in the same _paragraph_.”

“Fuck off, Ackerman.”

“Fight me, you pygmy.”

“You’re adopted for a reason.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Eren guffaws when Mikasa aims a half-hearted kick at the backs of Levi’s knees. “Hanji, help!” he calls when Petra’s car pulls into the space next to Levi’s.

Hanji leans out the open window and points at them. “Hey, Levi, no fighting! I need Mikasa; she’s one of our hardest workers in crew!”

“I love how you just casually ignore the fact that she’s the one trying to hit me,” he replies, easily deflecting the punches being thrown his way.

“Or that you think he could actually beat me up,” Mikasa adds, throwing in one last jab at Levi’s gut that almost connects. “I would be offended if it wasn’t so laughable.”

“Could you imagine if those two were actually friends with each other?” Sasha stage-whispers to Eren and Armin as they make their way into the restaurant. They all cringe; the thought is abjectly terrifying.

It might be the lateness of the hour or the exhaustion that comes from a satisfying rehearsal of getting shit done, but Levi’s thoughts slowly creep back into what he considers dangerous territory for the late-night meal. Eren is sitting next to him in the booth, and although he definitely doesn’t mind the way that they are pressed so close that their arms are in almost constant contact, it certainly doesn’t help Levi avoid the slightly alarmed awareness that he is attracted to him, and he has little to no clue on what to do about it.

It’s no small secret that Levi completely lacks most of the social graces that all the other students spend their teenage years being acutely aware of. He has little to no sense of modesty, because he’s while he’s not one to boast about talent or anything, he also sees no point in downplaying his own ability or his personality, which is just naturally blunt at best and impulsive at worst. And his observation on Sunday about Eren’s lack of personal skills had come from recognizing the same awkward tendencies that he possesses himself. The only difference between the two them is that Levi has the ability to appear unaffected by the fact that he’s often very clueless on how to handle social situations, which is why he’s pretty certain that being attracted to Eren Jaeger is a monumentally bad idea.

 _‘We’re a pair of idiots,’_ he thinks almost gravely, dragging a fry through the ketchup in creative patterns. _‘Fuck me sideways. I’m getting emotionally confused over a fifteen year old kid. My life is spiraling out of control.’_

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out to see a text from Erwin: _I can’t believe you went to McDonald’s without me._

Levi rolls his eyes and responds. _Don’t leave so fast next time, you stupid fuck._

 _Bring me back fries,_ is the only answer he gets, and he fires off a disgruntled reply before glancing up and finding himself almost nose-to-nose with Eren, who is staring at him curiously. Over the past week, Levi has noticed the subtle changes of the kid slowly getting used to him; he’s only half as shy now as he was the week before, and while it’s not bad to know that he’s comfortable enough now to revert back to the overeager, at times bold attitude he’d had at rehearsals, Levi admittedly misses the multitude of opportunities he’d had before to make Eren squirm or blush.

Plus, the soft-spoken side of him was a lot easier to deal with.

“Who is it?” he mumbles around a mouthful of food.

Levi grimaces faintly and snaps, “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? Gross. That was Erwin; he’s being a baby about not being invited.”

“Well he shouldn’t have left so fast then!” Hanji laughs.

“That’s exactly what I told him.” Levi glances down at his finished meal and wads up the food wrappers before sliding out of the booth. “He wants fries, though. The shit. Be right back.”

“Wait!” Sasha calls, gathering up her own trash and leaping up after him. She grins. “I’ll come with; I want dessert.”

“Ooh, me too,” Petra adds as she stands.

They order together and stand off to the corner waiting for their food when Sasha speaks up again. “You know Levi, I was actually going to mention this, like, way back at auditions, but I completely forgot; I can’t believe I’ve never heard you sing until this year. You have a really good voice!”

The comment isn’t as out of the blue as it seems; they’d been finishing up learning the first big number of the show, ‘My Freeze Ray’, in rehearsal today. What was surprising was the amount of people that approached him with friendly comments about his singing; he’d always known that he was talented, but he’d never particularly paid attention to how he sounded, or what other people thought of it. He didn’t know what to do with the praise except nod and say thanks, giving an honest effort to sound appreciative.

Petra giggles and says, “I think I’ve heard some people here or there talking about you, you know. How _‘hot’_ your voice is.” She sounds like she finds the entire thing incredibly amusing.

Levi groans and tilts his head back, letting it hit the wall behind him with a dull thud. “Do not start, Petra. Deflect them. If I hear someone call me anything even _close_ to what people call Erwin, I’m committing mass homicide.”

The girls laugh; the season’s first running joke has developed, and Levi had to admit that it had been pretty funny to see the look on Erwin’s face when he’d heard that some of the girls had been referring to him as Captain Handsome behind the scenes. Erwin is such a secret narcissist that he actually enjoys the nickname, but Levi would be more annoyed than flattered by it.

“You probably shouldn’t take it too seriously, though,” Sasha tells him, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she tries to see if her food is coming any faster. It’s not. “Doesn’t this happen every year? Like, people getting crushes on other people in the program?”

Levi winces internally at the topic as he nods. He remembers last year, when Mikasa had gotten cast in the competitive season’s production as one half of a pair of young lovers; the other half was Jean, and the fat crush he’d developed on her had been no small secret. It wasn’t uncommon for people to suddenly develop an attraction to the person playing their romantic interest, especially among the newbies who probably had it happen as a way to cope with the fact that they had to act intimately with someone who could have been a complete stranger the previous day.

The remembrance is a little reassuring, actually; this attraction is a fluke that will fade in no time.

Probably.

And then his brain reminds him of another shining example of the crush phenomenon, and he says, “Petra’s actually got her own Cinderella story about that. It’s weird, it’s like one of those relationship myths that people always tell each other, but no one knows who actually started the story or if it’s even true. This one is true, and Petra is the origin.”

“Oh my God, shut up Levi.”

“So two years ago, our sophomore year when she first joined the program, they did Bye Bye Birdie and Petra was Kim MacAfee, right?”

“ _Levi—_ ”

Levi claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her protests and smirks wickedly; the level of intense embarrassment that Petra experiences whenever someone tells this story is one of the most entertaining things he’s ever seen. “So she’s Kim MacAfee, and this guy—he graduated last year, if you remember him—named Auruo had the _biggest_ fucking crush on her. Oh my God, he got the Sweet Apple Girls to help him serenade her with ‘One Boy’ in front of everyone so he could ask her to homecoming.”

Petra has given up on trying to pry Levi’s hand away and has pulled the other one up to cover her beet-red face instead.

“That’s so cute,” Sasha squeals, and Levi snorts.

“No, no, it was so fucking weird, because Auruo was playing _Mr. MacAfee_ —” He is visibly shaking with the effort of staying composed enough to finish the story, and Sasha slams a hand on the counter and doubles over, howling with laughter. “—so they totally ended up dating, I think they’re still dating actually. Petra, are you still dating that guy? Was that a nod? Okay, good. Anyway, it was so fucking weird because they were together in real life but he was her _dad_ in the show, and—Jesus shit, Petra, stop hitting me—and one time Shadis caught them making out in the breezeway, and they were _in costume and makeup—_ ”

“We were _not_!” Petra all but shrieks, shoving Levi. Her face is burning. “That never happened!”

Levi decides to be merciful and flashes her a brief grin before he cups a hand over his mouth and laughs, “Okay, so that last part wasn’t true, but the rest of it is. Oh my God. That was so fucking weird. Like, I would see you guys at Sunday practices being all cute and shit, but when I saw the show, I was really uncomfortable.”

Sasha is leaning on Petra now, wiping away tears of laughter. Petra is wearing an expression that has sent lesser men off screaming, and she growls, “You are the worst kind of person.”

“I am a perfect person.”

Their food is finally placed on the counter, and Petra huffs and presses her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to cool them. “I am just going to chalk this up to it being late—you always get weird when it’s late and you’re tired—and forgive you for now,” she sniffs, flouncing past him.

They get back to the table just as everyone else is finishing up their food, and when Armin asks why he heard screaming up at the front, Levi encourages Sasha to tell everyone the story while he holds Petra back. He says sorry out by the cars later and even pats her on the head—he’s not as averse to human contact when it’s late out and the day’s exhaustion is catching up to him. She rolls her eyes and indulges him, saying that he owes her one free pass to mercilessly embarrass him; he agrees because fair is fair, but he’s also pretty certain that she’ll never manage to do it.

This time Armin gets shotgun—much to Eren’s disappointment—and Levi rolls his eyes and says, “Quit sulking back there, Jaeger—he sits up front because he’s getting dropped off first.”

“I could have walked,” Armin says half-hesitantly, like he is afraid of being a burden.

Levi rolls his eyes and says lightly, “Don’t be a dumb shit; who lets someone walk, like, six blocks alone in the dark in this town? Geez, kid.” He ignores the surprised yet immensely grateful look he gets in return and wonders if it’s really that shocking to people that he actually can be responsible sometimes.

Later, when he drops off Eren and Mikasa, he rolls down the window and calls Eren over. “Is Saturday at noon fine for you?”

Eren blinks, confused for a moment until he remembers Shadis telling Levi to record the first video blog this weekend, and grins and answers, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“You have the phone list, right?”

“Uh—”

“For fuck’s sake. Ackerman, make sure your dumbass little brother gets my number from the phone list and texts me in case anything changes.”

“You got it.”

Levi pushes his fingers up through Eren’s hair and shoves his head back from the window with a blithe, “Get the fuck away from my car, Bright-Eyes.”

It’s when he’s halfway to Erwin’s house with the stupid order of fries that he realizes he’s been fixated on the way Eren smiles at him the entire time, his memory paying particular attention to the way that little flecks of teal in his eyes become more vivid when they brighten, and he bites back a groan of exasperation as he admits to himself that the attraction is not a fluke. It was probably there at auditions, he muses, too new and basic to be recognizable. If anything, getting cast as love interests has only made it worse.

The real question, he understands when he rings the Smiths’ doorbell, is what to do about this information. When Erwin opens the door, he shoves the McDonald’s bag at him and says gravely, “My life is spiraling out of control.”

“Oh, wow, you actually got me fries.”

“Shut the fuck up; you know you were being serious when you told me to.”

“Yeah,” Erwin agrees, stepping to the side and gesturing for him to come in. Levi follows him to the kitchen, passing by the living room and waving at Mr. and Mrs. Smith when they call out a greeting. The two of them take a seat at the counter, and Erwin waits until after he’s swallowed a few fries to ask, “So, what's this about your life spiraling out of control?”

Levi clicks his barbell as he tries to figure out how to best phrase his words. His brow furrows as he grows increasingly frustrated, and when Erwin gives him a mildly alarmed glance and seems about to say something else, Levi just throws a hand up and says, “I’m a fucking loser who is attracted to my costar.”

There is a pregnant pause. Then, “Well, I’m flattered.”

This actually manages to startle a laugh out of Levi, and he none-too-gently elbows him in the side when he snaps, “Not _you_ , you piece of shit.”

Erwin laughs. “I’m sorry, I had to.” He holds out his hands in the universal gesture for, ‘ _Well then,’_ and says carefully. “Okay. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Levi glowers at him and steals a fry. “If I had a fucking clue, I wouldn’t be talking to you now, would I?”

Erwin nods and chews thoughtfully, mind working. Levi mildly resents himself for feeling like he needs to talk to someone else, but Erwin is undoubtedly a people person if there ever was one—he probably gets it from his father. Plus, although Levi hardly ever admits it out loud, they are best friends, and he’ll trust him with anything.

“Well,” Erwin begins after a little while. “Okay. Answer this: do you want to date him?”

“I don’t know!” Levi hisses, and he honestly doesn’t. He’s tried avoiding the fact that he’s attracted to Eren in the first place, never mind the thought of actually being in a relationship with the kid. He huffs out an exasperated breath through his nose and says marginally more calmly, “There’s plenty of reasons why this is a bad idea.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, he’s like, twelve.”

Erwin smiles gently and says, “I think you’re a little off, but alright. He’s a freshman and you’re a senior; that’s an understandable concern. What else?”

Levi frowns and remains silent, save for the occasional tap of his piercing and the drumming of his fingers against the countertop.

“So the only big thing is that he’s younger than you. Okay.” Erwin thinks for a moment about how to phrase the next question in a way that won’t have Levi getting up and leaving or looking at him like he’s stupid. Finally, he just decides to state it. “You want him to like you.”

Levi rolls his eyes and props his chin up on one hand, gaze fixed on the opposite wall. He doesn’t disagree with him.

Erwin gives a casual shrug and says like it’s obvious, “Just focus on that. Getting him to like you. Ask him on a date if you want. I don’t see anything being a big problem.” When Levi still doesn’t say anything, he smiles sympathetically and continues, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worried about anything.”

“I’m not worried,” Levi snaps, too hasty to be believable. “I’m just wondering when I turned into a girl.”

Erwin snorts and tells him, “So you need love advice. There’s nothing wrong with that. It could be worse. For example, if you were actually a girl, you’d be shit out of luck because Eren’s not straight. You at least have a chance of getting him to like you.”

Levi groans and slowly sinks down, forehead thunking against the countertop. “Shut up. Shut up, don’t try to cheer me up by being funny. Fuck you. You’re not funny, nothing is funny. I can’t believe I have a thing for Eren Jaeger.”

“Well, he is adorable.”

“Do _not_ call him that; he’s a little monster. Or did you forget about auditions?”

Erwin grins at him and gets up to throw out the now-empty container of fries. “Auditions are the reason why I don’t really see a big problem here. Callbacks too. There’s a reason you two were cast in the roles you got; nobody else had that kind of chemistry.”

“That’s just good acting.”

“Performance is based on emotion,” Erwin responds seriously, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter. Levi tries not to roll his eyes as his friend goes into lecture mode. “You’ve never been one to overthink things, Levi. Why start now?”

Levi blinks at him and pauses. No matter which way he turns the words in his head, Erwin is right. He snorts and tries not to laugh at himself; he knows other people have always had their moments of panic over things like being attracted to another person, but going through it himself has been a novel experience. He forces himself back to rationality.

_‘Do I have a thing for Eren Jaeger? Yes. Do I want to date him? I don’t know. Do I want him to like me back?’_

He pauses.

Erwin breaks the silence with a thoughtful, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get worked up over someone like this before. Wow. _Have_ you ever been attracted to someone like this?”

“Does being attracted to myself count?”

Erwin rolls his eyes and reaches out to clap a hand over Levi’s shoulder. “I honestly don’t see any reason why Eren wouldn’t like you, too. You’re a prize.”

“You’re fucking right,” Levi responds, sliding off the stool and stretching with a soft groan. He glances at the clock next to the fridge and groans again, this time in annoyance. “Shit, it’s almost eleven. I gotta go.”

Erwin walks him back to the door, and his parents wish Levi a cheerful goodnight as they pass them on their way up to bed. Levi steps out onto the front porch and shivers from the unexpected chill of the crisp night air. It’s only early September, but the thought of autumn setting in early is very pleasing to him, so he welcomes the cold. “Okay, well, thanks for the advice, I guess. Don’t expect this to happen again.”

Erwin laughs and responds, “Thanks for the food. Don’t worry too much about things; I’m sure everything will work out better than you expect. Trust me, I’m a superhero.”

Levi snorts. “Shut the fuck up and get back in your stupid fucking house. Tool.”

His drive home is more peaceful than the drive to Erwin’s had been. He leaves the windows open to welcome the chill, wind whipping through his hair as he blasts Two Door Cinema Club the entire way. Talking about his feelings is bullshit—as chatty a person as he is in general, he’s just always preferred quiet introspection when it comes to emotional matters over talking it out. But he’s grateful to have a person like Erwin who always seems to know what he’s doing, and he gets that sometimes, an outside perspective is just necessary to come to the right conclusion about something.

The lights are off when he gets home, and he takes care to be quiet as he makes his way to his room and neatly sets his backpack and shoes by the door before flopping onto his bed with a quiet huff. He doesn’t have much homework to do; he could probably get it all done now and just go to sleep a little past midnight. But, almost against his will, his thoughts center on the bright-eyed brat that’s wrestled away his self-control without even being aware of it.

 _‘I like him. I don’t know if I want to date him, but I know I like him. Issues with this include him being twelve and stupid as shit. Okay, not really, but still. This is probably a monumentally bad idea. There are plenty of things that could go wrong.’_ He blinks and turns over to stare at the ceiling, fingers laced together and resting gently on his stomach. _‘Cut it out, dipshit. Overthinking things is stupid. Especially if you don’t even know if you want this to go anywhere.’_

His mind runs through the past week of rehearsals, picking out little things here and there just because he can. Monday, when they first started running through the songs in Act One. Enjoying the sound of Eren’s clear, ringing voice and the surprising amount of emotion the kid can put into ‘Caring Hands’ even though it’s less than a minute long. The sheer amount of emotion when he sings in general; the kid is always his most expressive when he’s singing, and Levi idly wonders if he’s in choir. Lunch with everyone almost every day. Eren always sits next to him, even when there’s other spaces at the table. Running ‘My Freeze Ray’ for the first time and secretly enjoying the little ego boost he’d gotten when he’d overheard Eren talking about how great his voice his voice had sounded.

“Shit,” he breathes into the silence, suddenly very aware of just how _bad_ he’s got it. He rubs a hand over tired eyes, smudging eyeliner and not giving a shit because he is one hundred percent certain that, yes, he wants Eren to like him back, and yes, he’s going to do something about it, but no, he’s not entirely sure what. “Stupid fucking Bright-Eyes,” he whispers before turning over onto his side and closing his eyes.

He falls asleep easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi is such a clueless shit, I love him. And I love all of you readers, every single one. -massive hugs- Thank you for reading!


	6. Simple Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Talking to a fifteen year old should not be this hard. This is fucking ridiculous. Note to self: figure out how to become a fucking Vulcan. They don’t have feelings.’ He blinks. ‘Fuck. No. Never mind. I am already in my own personal Pon Farr hell. This is it, this is what it’s like. Fuck.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You bet your ass that's a Star Trek reference. Levi's a fucking nerd, okay. He also thinks that Zachary Quinto is God's gift to mankind. We have that in common. Warning: Pair of Idiots™ being dumb and cute, what else is new?

The Jaegers’ house is probably one of the coziest places in the world, Levi thinks, rapping the little gilded knocker against the door. Loud laughter is coming from inside the little American Craftsman, and Levi takes a moment to look around and admire all the care that has clearly gone into every aspect of the home, from the lovely yard with its well-tended garden to the neatly arranged flowerpots on the front porch. Levi is always one to appreciate the aesthetically pleasing things in life, and he wonders if being passionate about hobbies and going all out with them is a _thing_ in the family, because that would explain where Eren gets it from.

The door flies open then, and Levi allows himself a little, _‘Speaking of aesthetically pleasing,’_ when Eren grins down at him and says, “Right on time.” He sounds breathless. Levi steps into the entryway and kicks off his shoes while Eren shuts the door behind him. The laughter is louder now, coming from the living room where Levi can see two men chuckling over drinks before they look up and wave.

“That’s my dad,” Eren tells him, gesturing to the bespectacled man. Then he grins and points to the blonde one. “And that’s Hannes. He’s our neighbor, the town drunk.”

Hannes laughs and walks over—just a bit unsteadily—to muss Eren’s hair. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day, you know,” he says, ignoring the barb at his sobriety, or lack thereof.

“You should have heard what he said at auditions,” Levi mutters out of the side of his mouth, and Eren shoots him a wide-eyed look of panic when his father asks him what happened. Levi smirks and tells them the story—deliberately leaving out the part where he’d slammed the kid into a locker—and Hannes chuckles fondly and affirms that yes, that sounds like Eren.

“Eren,” his father says, giving him a look that is equal parts reproachful and amused. “I hope you at least apologized.”

“I did!” Then, in an almost pleading grumble, he adds, “…Don’t tell Mom.”

Levi snorts and ends up standing around in the living room with them a little while longer, fielding typical questions about what he’s been cast as, how rehearsals are going, does he enjoy it, and does he think Eren is doing a good job. Levi takes a muted sense of satisfaction in the pleased flush that spreads over Eren’s face when he answers with an honest, “Eren is great. He works just as hard as people that have been in the program for four years.”

“Okay,” Eren interjects loudly. “Speaking of work, we’ve got a thing to do.” He grabs Levi’s arm and tugs him halfway down the hall before he looks down and seems to realize what he’s doing. He lets go of him, mumbling a quick apology.

“You’re fine,” Levi tells him. Eren is not as rough as he thinks he is, and even if he had been, Levi is pretty sure that he wouldn’t really have minded. He follows Eren into the kitchen and is mildly startled when his mother immediately greets him with a warm handshake and a smile.

“Levi, right? Eren is always talking about you,” she says brightly, sneaking a sly glance at her son.

“ _Mom_.”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” she laughs, brushing past him and playfully pinching his ear. He bats her hand away with a protesting groan. “It’s called being polite to guests, Eren. Are you boys hungry?” She motions to a giant pot of spaghetti on the stove, and Eren grabs two bowls from the cabinet and hands one to Levi.

Levi is almost disoriented by how _welcoming_ the house is; he’s not like Eren, stiff and awkward in new people’s homes, but he’s no stranger to feeling out-of-place in an unfamiliar setting. He just never lets it visibly affect him. The only other house that Levi can be relaxed in besides his own is Erwin’s, but that’s because he spends nearly as much time there as he does at home. There’s something about Eren’s house, though—maybe it’s the fact that it practically radiates comfort, with its warm tones and warm people living in it. It’s very homey, and while Levi has never exactly felt _shy_ , he’s tended to be a bit on edge as a rule when he doesn’t know what to expect from a situation.

Then again, there’s also the possibility that he’s just naturally comfortable around Eren. It’s not exactly an unwelcome idea.

“You’ve got a nice house,” he says without fanfare when they’ve finished eating. He’s standing next to Eren, leaning back against the counter and watching him wash the dishes.

Eren gives him a pleased grin. “Thanks. My mom would be happy to hear you say that; this house is actually kind of like an ongoing project for her. She’s always doing something to improve it. She and my dad bought it back in the late nineties, when Dad relocated here for work—I’ve seen pictures of it. It used to look really bad. And Mom did most of the fixing up, and the decorating and stuff, cause it was like, her _dream_ to have a nice home for her kids to live in. She put a lot of effort into it.”

The dishes clatter, and Levi watches Eren stare thoughtfully down at the sudsy water pooling in the sink as he continues, “Then they actually found out that she had, like, fertility problems. I forget the name for it; it’s a medical term. My dad would know. Anyway… Mom told me about it before. They tried a lot, but, she either couldn’t get pregnant or couldn’t carry it to term…”

Eren takes a soft little breath, melancholy when he continues, “Mom took it really hard, so they stopped trying after a while, and she just focused on the house more. Took up gardening; that’s why our yard looks awesome and has, like, a million different flowers outside. A lot of them actually represent fertility or something. And then she and Dad eventually decided to adopt, so that’s how Mikasa got here. But not long after that, Mom found out she was pregnant with me. I’m like a miracle baby or something. Or a happy mistake, but only Hannes calls me that.”

The soft look in his eyes and endearing little smile on his face make it breathtakingly clear why Eren was cast as Penny. Levi takes a moment to examine the feeling of his heart thudding loudly in his chest, almost pleasantly painful, until Eren cuts his eyes at him bashfully, like he couldn’t believe he’d just said all that.

Levi can’t resist the opportunity to smirk at him and murmur, “You’re a mama’s boy, aren’t you.” It’s not even a question.

Eren ducks his head and shrugs, turning off the water and grabbing a nearby dishrag. “So what if I am?” he responds challengingly.

 _‘Oh what the hell.’_ Levi does his own brief mental shrug before answering with an honest, “I think you’re great.”

It’s not romantic, not even close. But it’s different from the way Levi had said it in the living room. Something in the phrasing, maybe—a little artless but unquestionably natural. Or maybe it’s something in his eyes when he looks right at Eren, gaze soft in a way that it hadn’t been a moment ago.

The both suck in a startled breath when Eren fumbles with the last dish, and their fingers collide over the slippery porcelain as they simultaneously grab at it. Eren’s expression freezes into one of surprise before hot color spreads over his cheeks. They stare at each other while he draws his fingers back from Levi’s, and the latter calmly holds out the plate for him to take.

Eren clears his throat and looks away, muttering, “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not.”

“I’m not.”

Eren quietly takes the plate and dries it, face still incredibly warm; Levi watches him, not even trying to be subtle about it. Eren stacks the last dish on top of the others and then turns to Levi, brilliant and impossibly bright green eyes fixing on his face. Levi feels a faint ripple of _something_ , right in the space behind his ribs.

The back door slams open then, and Eren jumps about a mile high while all Levi does is blink hard. Mikasa slips into the kitchen and glances at the both of them before nodding at Levi. “‘Sup, short stack.”

The look he gives her could curdle milk.

Eren muffles a suspicious cough into his hand and then asks, “How was crew?”

“Pretty good. I worked on your little love machines.”

“Mikasa,” Eren groans. He sees Levi’s questioning look and explains, “It’s what she’s been calling the fake washing machines from the Coin Wash set.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Cute.”

“Always,” Mikasa replies, giving him the finger and serving herself some lunch. “So did you guys do your thing?”

They share a look of realization, and Levi snorts. “C’mon, kid, I don’t want Director Shadis to get pissy with me for procrastinating,” he says, effectively sweeping whatever moment had been building between them earlier under the figurative rug. _‘I’ll think about it later,’_ he resolves; he chooses to focus on his desire to get some work done, because it’s not as slippery a slope as the _other_ sort of desire that’s been clouding his mind so far.

Levi finds it almost startling, though, as they head up the stairs to Eren’s bedroom; he hadn’t even known he could want someone like that, but when he thinks of Eren’s fingers, chilled from soapy water, on his own and those big, bright eyes—it makes his pulse throb with something hotter and deeper than the simple affection he already knows he feels.

Eren’s room is filled with the usual clutter that one can expect from a teenager, and he throws a sheepish look Levi’s way when the latter raises a disdainful brow and toes a stray shirt to the side. “Sorry, it’s kind of messy. I tried to clean it up, though.”

Levi fixes him with a flat look, but the corner of his lips quirk up. He responds with a dry, “Try harder.”

Eren takes a page from Mikasa’s book and gives him the finger, but the gesture loses all of its aggression when he sticks his tongue out too. Levi’s mind briefly shoots straight into the gutter and lands right on a couple of things he could tell Eren to do with that tongue, but he bites his cheek and snorts, “What are you, five?”

“Whatever,” Eren huffs, flopping back onto his bed with a contented sigh. He motions toward his desk and says, “Laptop’s over there, go nuts.”

“I’m not gonna open it up and see porn, am I?”

“I cleared my browser history before you got here.”

“Okay, Eren,” Levi half-laughs, clicking on the little webcam icon. “You’re not actually supposed to say that kind of thing out loud. It’s one of those things that you do but never talk about, like taking a shit in a public restroom.”

Eren rolls over and guffaws into his pillow. He looks up, eyes shining with amusement as they peek through his bangs, and retorts, “You are the last person who should be telling me what I should and shouldn’t say out loud.”

Levi smirks at him, his image visible on the screen now as the webcam light flickers to life. “I can’t tell if the theater life has taken ahold of you or if you’re just hanging around me too much. Either way, you’re a lot mouthier than you used to be. Which I didn’t even think was possible.”

“Just do your thing,” he says with a smile, crossing his arms and laying his head on top of them. He watches Levi fish his script out of the messenger bag he’d brought, and then his eyes widen comically when a large Ziploc baggie comes out next. “What is that?”

Levi’s smirk is threatening to grow into a wickedly amused smile. “What do you think?”

“… Please tell me that’s not cocaine.”

He turns back to the laptop, shoulders shaking with laughter. In the show, he’ll have a baggie full of lemon-flavored Jell-O that will pass for liquefied gold bars, but just before he’d left the house, he’d had a brilliant idea for what to use for the time being. “It’s _flour_ , you dipshit. But I’m hoping that Director Shadis will jump to the same conclusion you did. I might as well have a little fun with this.”

Eren gives him a playful grin and doesn’t say anything more, perfectly content to watch as Levi gives his lines an arbitrary once-over before flipping his script shut and tossing it to the side. He shuts his eyes and tries to center himself, pleased that he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder and warn Eren not to mess around. Three recordings isn’t a big deal, and he honestly might screw up and have to start over, but he wouldn’t mind that half as much as he’d mind needing an extra take because an outside influence fucked it up. Eren is every bit as serious as he is, though, when it comes to the show. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d said that the kid was great.

Levi takes a couple of deep breaths, inhaling the knowledge of Dr. Horrible’s character and mindset and exhaling everything else—he’s not in a messy bedroom, being carefully observed by the boy he’s got a nauseatingly huge crush on— _‘Ugh, shit, I can’t believe I have a_ crush. _What the fuck._ ’ _—_ but is instead all alone in a cluttered lab. He opens his eyes and reaches out to click ‘record’.

It is almost— _almost_ —a surprise when Eren nearly manages to derail the first take right off the bat because he just barely remembers to muffle his laughter when Levi starts speaking. This makes Levi very nearly break character by darting his gaze up to shoot an almost exasperated look at him in the webcam; Eren completely rolls over on the bed then, taking his pillow with him as he puts his back to Levi.

Other than that, the rest of the recording goes relatively smoothly, and the first thing that Levi does once he clicks ‘stop’ is turn around and mutter, “Dumbass.”

“Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“The fuck do you mean you weren’t expecting that? You know the whole show. You’ve seen the movie.”

“It’s just really funny coming from you,” Eren says, sitting up with a smile. He shrugs and explains, “You’ve always got a really serious look—”

“That’s just my face.”

“Yeah, I know, but that’s what I’m saying. You look serious all the time, so when you’re acting, it’s like this _total_ transformation. I can’t really explain it well. You’re really—expressive? Yeah. You’re really expressive when you’re acting. And I know that part of it’s the character, but there’s just something about the way that you perform that’s just really amazing to watch. And it made me forget that I had to be quiet for a second, so…” He trails off, watching Levi. When the latter doesn’t speak, he offers him a sheepish smile and says, “Sorry. I talk too much.”

“… Yeah,” Levi responds after a pause that lasts too long to be deliberate. He clears his throat and tries to think of something else to add. _‘Talking to a fifteen year old should not be this hard. This is fucking ridiculous. Note to self: figure out how to become a fucking Vulcan. They don’t have feelings.’_ He blinks. _‘Fuck. No. Never mind. I am already in my own personal Pon Farr hell. This is it, this is what it’s like. Fuck.’_

Eren shifts forward on the bed when Levi turns back around and rests his head on the desk with an exasperated scoff. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Levi mumbles. “I’m just a fucking idiot.” When he looks back to see confusion apparent on Eren’s face, he shakes his head and says, “Forget it. Come here and give me notes.”

“Huh?”

Levi rolls his eyes and answers slowly, “Give me _notes_. To _improve_. _Obviously_.”

The wide-eyed look that Eren gives him is unexpected as he beams and responds, “You want me to give you notes?”

“For the third fucking time, yes. God, Jaeger.”

“No, I just—” He looks almost flustered now and gives his head a disbelieving little shake. “I just can’t believe that you’re asking _me_. I barely know what I’m doing, I’m still really new at this.”

“You’re forgetting that so am I,” Levi answers, arching over the chair to crack his back with a quiet groan. “Experience doesn’t equate to talent. There are some people that have been in the program for four years that couldn’t pull off half the things in a month that you’ve been pulling off in a week. I trust you.”

Eren blushes then, averting his gaze as bright color edges its way onto his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says softly.

The silence stretches for a few seconds, hovering in a narrow space somewhere between awkward and intimate, not quite tipping over either line. Levi is almost surprised by how much he actually doesn’t mind it, as unfamiliar as the atmosphere is. He shrugs then and asks, “So are you gonna give me notes, or…?”

“Yeah! Yeah, okay—play the recording,” Eren tells him, hopping off the bed to come and stand over his shoulder.

He studies the video dutifully and with more focus than Levi honestly thought he’d ever possessed. He is hesitant about his comments at first, as if he’s still not quite sure he’s got permission to tell Levi what he’s doing wrong, but this changes when Levi—in an effort to be encouraging—snaps, “You wanna be a little more concrete with your advice, kid? You’re being about as useful as dirt. Except not really, because at least I could make dirt a prop. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with this.”

Eren squints at him. “You’re throwing away the line about the kids in the park.”

Levi raises a brow challengingly. “Oh?”

The set of Eren’s jaw is nothing but determined, and he continues, “You say it like you’re annoyed with Johnny Snow for suggesting a fight in a park where there’s kids around, but your delivery is completely off the mark. Dr. Horrible’s not as annoyed about it as much as he’s, like… kind of _disgusted_ that Johnny would try to fight in a park with little kids around. Because he’s actually a good guy. And you’re supposed to get that across here—he’s so bad at being a supervillain because he’s not actually an evil guy. It sets up the contrast between him and Captain Hammer, who is actually a superhero but is also a really shitty person. So… yeah.”

Levi studies him for a moment, face impassive. He waits until Eren starts to fidget under his scrutiny before he nods and says, “That’s probably the smartest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Shut up.” The words are belligerent, but Levi sees him duck his head to hide the pleased smile playing about the corners of his mouth. He bites the inside of cheek to prevent one forming on his own face and instead elbows Eren in the side, prompting him to point out any other things that need to be improved.

Levi films the second take, incorporating Eren’s suggestions and tweaking a line here or there that he personally didn’t like the sound of in the first take. Eren remembers not to laugh this time, but Levi can see him in the background of the shot, grinning dopily almost the entire time. When Levi’s done, he turns and hurls his bag at Eren, saying, “Hope you fucking paid attention, kid, cause I want to get the last take _done_. Notes.”

Fifteen minutes later, Levi is e-mailing the files to Shadis while Eren grins at him and tells him that the last version was the best one. “Obviously,” Levi agrees, shutting the laptop and turning in the chair to look at him. “The last time you do something is always the best time. Why do you think I only ever went to closing night performances? Everyone always leaves everything on stage then, because it’s the final performance. It’s always the best night.”

“I think every night will be a good night, though,” Eren says thoughtfully, laying back on his bed. “This is such a great show. I know it’s only been a week, but everyone is already working so hard to make things look good. We have a strong cast.”

Levi thinks back to the morning of callbacks, recalling when Erwin had told him that despite his unorthodox methods, Director Shadis always knows what works in a show. He repeats the words to Eren, who shifts on the bed to look at him and nods.

“Casting me as Penny was unorthodox alright,” he says with a laugh that sounds more than a little self-deprecating.

Levi shrugs and slowly starts spinning in the chair. “Non-traditional casting _is_ a thing, you know. Some roles are written one way but can be re-worked, if the script is flexible and you’re open minded about it. Penny in the movie is your typical girl-next-door, I think. A do-gooder. And it’s not a bad thing, but it’s really easy to fit into that cliché roll if you’re a girl. Most of what I saw people doing at callbacks was just smiling a lot and being sort of soft-spoken, to give off that ‘sweet’ illusion. You were different. In a good way. It was literally impossible for you to fit into that archetype without it being forced, so you just kept it really natural instead of showy.”

He pauses thoughtfully and misses the way that Eren is watching him, eyes shining in a gaze that is too open to be disguised as simply admiring. Levi stares up at the ceiling and continues, “At first I thought you were all talk, when you said you wanted to be an actor. Lots of people say that acting is what they want to do with their life, or singing, or dancing, but they treat it more like a hobby than anything.” There is a moment of silence just long enough to highlight the small bit of uncertainty he feels about saying his next words. “A lot of the people in Sina were like that.”

Eren doesn’t say anything to that. He simply watches Levi with his brows drawn in a solemn frown. Levi almost wonders whether or not he should keep his next words to himself, but he’s never been one to think before he speaks—so he doesn’t know if he means Eren’s acting ability, or his personality—or probably both—when he admits, “You’re a lot better than they are. I wasn’t kidding around when I said you were great.”

He looks at Eren then and sees a familiar look in those bright eyes; it had been there at auditions, right after he’d sung for Ms. Brzenska. Wide-eyed and marveling, but Levi thinks that now it’s probably directed more towards his words than at him. Still, he allows himself a soft smirk when Eren beams at him and responds sincerely and without hesitation, “I think you’re great, too.”

 _‘Shit.’_ That does something to Levi, makes something big and fierce well up in his chest, settle in the space behind his ribs. _‘Shit.’_ He turns away then, feeling hot color blooming across his cheeks. _‘Fucking_ shit _.’_

“Um,” Eren starts after a lengthy silence. He sounds like he’s trying to be confident, and Levi carefully tilts his head to sneak a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. He’s staring at his lap. “I know you only needed to use my laptop, but if you don’t have anywhere to be, you could hang out here for a while?” he blurts, voice pitching up at the end to turn it into a question. He clears his throat and glances at Levi.

“… What is this, a play-date? Are you five? You really _are_ five, wow.”

“Shut up!”

Levi snorts into the crook of his elbow and buries a smile there. “Yeah, sure.”

“… Really?”

Levi raises a single, mocking brow. “Do you always invite people to hang out without having any actual ideas _for_ hanging out?”

“I just didn’t expect you to say yes!” Eren retorts, tossing a pillow at him. He grunts in surprise when Levi catches it and whips it back too quickly for him to prevent getting smacked in the face.

“Well I did, dipshit,” Levi says, turning in the chair and crossing his arms over the back. He looks at Eren expectantly. “So, what do you want to do?”

~~~

Hours later, Levi is curled up on one of the Jaegers’ hanging patio chairs, watching Eren try to start a fire. “How long is this supposed to take, exactly? We can’t miss practice tomorrow because you’re still trying to get the damn thing lit.”

“I’m _trying_ , okay? I—ugh! Fuck it, fuck this.” He stomps over to the door and wrenches it open, leaning into their kitchen and hollering for Mikasa.

“Eren, don’t shout,” comes his mother’s reprimanding voice; Levi cranes his neck and sees her standing over a cooling dessert, frowning at her son.

Eren ducks his head and offers a sheepish, “Sorry, Mom.”

“ _What_ , Eren? I was on the phone with Annie.”

“Can you get a fire going in the pit? I can’t do it.”

“Wow,” Mikasa deadpans, shuffling onto the patio and finding the evidence of Eren’s failed attempt. She heaves a long-suffering sigh and turns to him to order, “Go inside and tell Annie I'll call her back later. And get my sweater. The big red one.”

“You mean _my_ sweater that you borrowed and never gave back?”

“Go get it,” she whispers threateningly. When he doesn’t move, she balls her fists and stomps towards him once, which is enough to make him yelp and take off running, the door banging shut behind him. She snorts and makes short work of the sloppily constructed fire, and it’s crackling merrily in no time. She glances at Levi and frowns. “Yeah?”

“Your brother is an idiot.”

“I know.”

“I have a thing for that idiot.”

Mikasa’s reaction is nothing short of startling; she snorts loudly into her hand and then doubles over, shaking. It takes Levi a second to realize that she is _laughing_ at him. She wheezes, “Oh. No. Wow. I don’t know what I expected you to say, but it wasn’t _that_ , oh my _God_.” She straightens and glances behind her to check for any sign of Eren; when there is none, she turns back and fixes Levi with a stare that looks as if she’s questioning his sanity. “ _Why_?”

He blinks. “What?”

Mikasa throws her hands up at her sides, her words echoing her posture. “Why? Like, why Eren?”

It takes a lot for Levi to admit, “I don’t get your question.”

Mikasa pinches the bridge of her nose and groans, “Oh, Jesus. Why would you have a thing for _Eren,_ of all people, is what I’m asking. Like, he’s my little brother and I love him, but he’s just… You know he only had one friend growing up, right? I mean, two if you count me, which you shouldn’t, because family doesn’t count, but. He’s just such a shit; he did not grow out of that. At all.”

“I know,” Levi says with a wry smile.

Mikasa returns the smile with a slightly more disbelieving one. “So, you told me this, why?”

Levi shrugs and unfolds himself in the chair, letting his legs dangle over the edge. “Fuck if I know,” he answers.

Mikasa nods once and plops down in the seat opposite from him, sinking into its cushions. “I’m going to go ahead and assume it’s because you know me and want to prevent me from jumping to weird conclusions and kicking your teeth in if I were to find out from anyone else.” She blinks and asks bluntly, “You know he’s jailbait, right?”

Levi grimaces. There are a lot of ways that he could answer that question, but he settles for a somewhat tired-sounding, “I’m seventeen.”

She looks surprised. “Really? Huh, I thought you were eighteen. My bad.”

“My birthday isn’t until December.”

“Ah. Well, that’s a short window you’ve got there. Get it in while you can.”

Levi’s jaw actually drops a bit, and he snaps, “ _Okay_ , yeah, talking about your brother like that isn’t _gross_ or anything.”

“It’s called humor, not that you know about that. And please. This is Eren we’re talking about here. Give it a week and you’ll want to strangle him more than sleep with him, I bet. Then again, virgins will put up with anything to get some, so—”

Levi scowls and flings a decorative pillow at her just as the door opens again and Eren comes stumbling through, red hoodie in one hand and a giant plate of dessert in the other. He glances back and forth between the two of them and says, “Quit fighting. Mom made food.”

Levi peers curiously at the plate. It looks delicious—Eren’s mother is obviously nothing less than a homemaking deity—but he’s still wary enough of unfamiliar food to ask, “What is it?”

“Blueberry buckle,” Eren answers, scooting a chair over to the little glass coffee table as he sets the plate down on it. “It’s kind of like a coffee cake, but it’s not.”

“Good explanation.”

“Shut up, Mikasa. Hey Levi, Mom wants to know if you’re staying over, cause we have an air mattress you can use if you are.”

Levi shoots Mikasa a dark glare when she snickers knowingly; obviously, his first attempt at showing a modicum of consideration for others has backfired, he realizes, because he’s given Mikasa all the ammunition she’ll need whenever she wants to rile him up. Then he looks down at himself and frowns; skinny jeans are not the most comfortable thing to sleep in, and he says so.

“Eren, just let Levi borrow a pair of your clothes,” Mikasa says, cutting a taunting glance Levi that only he catches.

Levi narrows his eyes at her. _‘This bitch.’_

Eren waits until he’s swallowed his bite of dessert before leaning in and staring up at Levi with a look that is far too puppyish in its pleading to be accidental. “Come on,” he wheedles, “I’ve got games.”

“I’m not playing Mario Kart with you again, you little fuck. You complain too much when you lose.”

Eren rolls his eyes and changes tack. “I’ve got movies, then. We could always watch Dr. Horrible for, like, the millionth time.”

Levi flicks his gaze up at the starless sky and gives it a bit of thought. “No. Too much of a good thing and all that.” He tries to remember what other titles he’d seen in the stack of DVDs on Eren’s nightstand. He blinks and then asks, “Studio Ghibli?”

“ _Yes_.” This excited hiss comes from Mikasa, who is wearing an openly pleased expression now. “A million times yes. Princess Mononoke.”

“Spirited Away,” Levi adds, and she nods.

“Ponyo.”

“The Secret World of Arrietty.”

“I’m just gonna throw in Howl’s Moving Castle and go get Dad to help me set up the mattress,” Eren says with a laugh as he gets up and leaves.

Later in the living room, when it’s way past midnight and the ending credits of Howl’s Moving Castle are rolling through the screen, Levi turns to Mikasa and whispers, “I thought you would be more bothered by this.”

She wraps her knit blanket tighter around herself, curling up on the recliner she’d called dibs on. She watches her little brother, fast asleep with his head lolling at what must be an uncomfortable angle on Levi’s shoulder. “He has a habit of falling asleep on people. But that’s probably not what you meant.” When Levi doesn’t say anything else, she shrugs and says quietly, “He’s my baby brother. But I think I would be more bothered if it was someone other than you, you know?”

He shakes his head, half-distracted by the soft puffs of warm air fluttering against his neck as Eren breathes evenly.

“Theater kids are sometimes so iffy with relationships. You know what I mean. There’s always a lot of dating in the program, and sometimes it’s just way too casual to be a good idea. If it were someone else, I think I’d be a lot more bothered. But I’ve never seen you take anyone as seriously as you do Eren.”

Levi blinks. “I didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“You are and you’re not,” Mikasa tells him, quietly getting up to pop another DVD in. The TV’s volume is barely audible over her. “I doubt Eren has noticed. He’s not exactly the observant type,” she says, her tone more affectionate than rude. “But to anyone who pays attention to the way you act, it’s a pretty big change, yeah. I can tell this isn’t a joke to you. It’s kind of _weird_ knowing that you of all people has a thing for my little brother, but—” She shrugs again and sits back down. “—you’re not an idiot. It could be worse.”

And then she narrows her eyes and points threateningly, hissing, “But if you fuck up, they’re never finding your body.”

Levi gives her the finger, but a faint smile plays about the corners of his lips, and he has the odd feeling that, in her own way, Mikasa Ackerman has just given him her blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I typed half of this in the hallway waiting for my Philosophy lecture to start, and one of the girls who was waiting outside with me was like, 'Wow, you're writing a lot. What is it? An essay?' and I was like, '-nervous sweating- uh yeah essay that is right that is exactly what i am doing yes.'
> 
> -rolls into the sun-


	7. Put On Your Sunday Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You’re attracted to someone—of course something’s wrong with you. You’re insane. All of this is insane.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhHHHHHHHH
> 
> Edit: Writing this chapter was such a nostalgic experience. Made me recall how my first serious romance felt. ^_^  
> EDIT EDIT: I KEEP FORGETTING THAT PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY INTERESTED oops haha. For anyone who would like it, my tumblr url is humanitys-most-kawaii. i am also tracking the tag, fic: keep your head up. -smooches-

A week later, Levi is groggily blinking himself awake and desperately fighting the urge to roll over and go back to sleep. His Saturday had been spent in nearly the exact same way as the previous week, going over to the Jaegers’ house to use Eren’s webcam and then hanging out until it was too late for him to go home. The only differences were that this time, Armin had spent the night there, too—which Levi didn’t mind at all, because the kid was actually an intelligent human being and therefore fun to be around—and they’d all managed not to fall asleep in uncomfortable positions on the couch like last time.

Although, Levi would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t enjoyed how flustered Eren had gotten when they’d woken up face-to-face. Levi’s only private regret was that he’d been too tired to really appreciate the furious blush that had taken over the kid’s face.

The door to Eren’s room slams open then, and Levi levels a bleary glare at the kid that is only reduced in its intensity by the huge mug of coffee that is being held out to him. He sits up and accepts it with a grunt of thanks.

“I don’t know if you’ve checked your phone yet, but Erwin sent a mass text. Practice is cancelled today, he has a family thing,” Eren says. He bounds over to the window and tugs open the curtains; the painfully bright sunlight draws an agitated groan from Levi. Eren offers a guilty, “Sorry.”

“Just shut the fuck up and let me finish my coffee.”

“Okay,” he adds cheekily.

Levi throws him a vicious glare that goes completely ignored. He nurses his mug of coffee and feels equal parts energized and glum when it’s empty. He huffs and rubs the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, watching Eren putter around the room.

He’s noticed more and more about the kid in the couple of weeks they’ve been getting to know each other, like the fact the Eren can’t ever seem to sit still for long periods of time. He also has hair that’s as stubborn as he is. It always looked messy, but the truth is that it was a veritable rat’s nest when he woke up in the morning. He also enjoys helping his mother with the yard work, which is why he’s so fit and—even though crisp autumn weather has been edging its way into town—tan long after everyone else’s summer glows have begun to fade.

Levi thinks that it shouldn’t be possible for a fifteen year old to be so good-looking at the same time that he admits that ogling Eren is something that he catches himself doing more and more often, though he’s not about to stop. He’s self-aware enough to know without a doubt that Eren—tall, at least to him, strong-jawed, and broad-shouldered—is just his type.

 _‘Can’t tell if the fact that he’s a fucking dork makes it better or worse,’_ Levi muses, arching his back and feeling a strong crack that draws a gratified moan from him. Somewhere, Eren stumbles over something and muffles a curse. The corners of Levi’s lips twitch. _‘Better.’_

He doesn’t feel completely awake yet, but he forces himself up from the air mattress anyway and spots his phone on the floor. He checks and sees that Erwin has indeed texted everyone: _My family is visiting my great-aunt today, so no practice. Go over scenes and dances from Act One, and be ready to learn ‘My Eyes’ tomorrow!_ Levi blinks in surprise when he looks at the time and sees that it’s almost noon, and when Eren takes the empty mug and leaves the room, he follows.

“Where is everyone?” Levi asks. The house is quiet save for the sound of Eren washing the dishes.

“Armin’s grandpa picked him up for church,” Eren answers. “Mikasa left for crew, and my parents are out grocery shopping. They left money, though,” he says, stacking up the wet plates and nodding over at the table. A couple of bills are lying next to a little note. “We could go out and get breakfast. Or lunch. Whatever.”

“Brunch,” Levi says, a bit incredulous. “The term you were looking for is literally the most obvious combination of those two words. Idiot.”

“Shut up,” Eren shoots back without any real heat. He turns off the water and dries his hands, looking at Levi with an expectant smile. “You wanna?”

Levi frowns and looks down at himself. He’d borrowed clothes from Eren to sleep in again, a pair of gray sweatpants and a dark tee shirt that is practically hanging off his thin frame. Eren is bigger than he is, so the clothes are almost comically loose, but there’s still something comfortable about them. He likes the feeling of wearing them more than he’s willing to admit. Even so. “I look like trash. We have to stop at my house so I can shower and change.”

“You look fine.”

Levi glares at him. “No. You do the same thing; I’m not gonna be seen in public with you looking like scum.”

“I always look good,” Eren responds seriously, but he laughs when Levi elbows him in the side. “I’m _going_ , geez.”

Levi occupies himself with the TV for about fifteen minutes before he gets impatient; he really is hungry now. He quietly pads over to the bathroom door and bangs on it with his fist, calling, “Quit jacking off and let’s _go._ ”

The door flies open and Eren is standing there, freshly showered and in clean clothes, a damp towel over his head and a toothbrush in his mouth. “I will spit on you,” he mumbles around it.

Levi smirks wickedly. “I’ll tell your mom what you did at auditions.”

Eren’s eyes widen fearfully before he lets out a frustrated growl and gives Levi the finger. The threat works though, because they’re out the door and driving to Levi’s place less than five minutes later.

“… What is this?” Eren asks carefully, staring at the stereo as if it will answer his question about the music that is pumping through the car.

Levi cuts his eyes at him. “You’ve never heard of K-pop?”

“Oh. I think Mikasa has a poster of one of those singers in her room.”

Levi sighs; he’s seen that poster. “That’s _J_ -pop.”

“…Is there a difference?”

Levi swerves hard into his driveway, but Eren’s gotten used to his driving tendencies by now. He manages to brace his hands against the dashboard just in time to keep him from slamming into the window. Levi rolls his eyes and huffs, “K-pop is Korean. J-pop is Japanese. _Obviously_. God, kid.”

Eren gives him a playful shove but drops the subject because he’s staring at Levi’s house. “This is the first time I’ve ever been here,” he says cheerfully as he hops out of the car.

“Congratulations,” is the dry response. Levi unlocks the front door and steps into the living room. He bites back a smile when Eren yelps in surprise at the booming bark that comes from the far corner.

“Holy shit,” Eren wheezes, pressing a palm to his racing heart. “You have a dog?”

“Yep,” Levi answers, popping the ‘p’. He kneels down and holds out his arms for the fawn-furred Mastiff to come loping over. “Her name’s Baby.”

“Baby?”

“My mom’s favorite movie is ‘Dirty Dancing,’” Levi offers in explanation. He runs his fingers through Baby’s fur a couple of times and then walks over to open a door that reveals the stairs leading down to the dance studio in the basement. His ears pick up what sounds like ‘When You’re Good to Mama’ and he calls, “Mom!”

A moment goes by before the music stops. “Levi, is that you? I thought you had practice.”

“No, this is an escaped convict. I’m going to murder you, but I wanted to let you know I was here first so you could hide. It’s more fun that way. But if I were your son, I’d tell you that practice was cancelled.”

Light footsteps are coming up the stairs now, and his mother—even shorter than he is, with dark hair up in a messy bun and damp with sweat at the slightly-greying temples—steps onto the landing and grabs him in a hug. “You are so funny, sweetie.”

“Thank God I’m taking a shower,” he grumbles, grudgingly accepting the affection. “You’re sweaty. Gross.”

“It’s not polite to point out perspiration,” she chirps before her blue-eyed gaze lands on Eren, who is shyly standing back and being inspected by the dog. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m being so rude right now!” she exclaims, holding out her hand. “I’m Deborah.”

“Eren,” is the soft response. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oof, please, just call me Deborah. Or Deb. Ma’am makes me feel so old— _Levi_ ,” she interjects, pointing a warning finger up at her son.

“I didn’t say anything,” Levi responds, a puckish glint in his eye. “Where’s Dad?”

“At the store.”

“Mm. Well, me and Eren are going out for brunch, but I need to shower first.” He looks at Eren then and snorts. “God, you really _are_ weird in other people’s homes. Relax. Sit down and play with the dog, she’s an attention whore.”

“Levi.”

“I’m sorry,” he drawls, rolling his eyes at his mother. “An attention harlot. Anyway, I’ll be done in like, fifteen minutes and then we can go,” he throws over his shoulder, heading down the hall and into the kitchen.

His mother follows him and stops him just before he gets to the stairs. “ _So_ ,” she begins, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, ignoring Levi’s annoyed groan. “Are you two going out to brunch, or are you _going out_ to brunch?”

Levi fixes her with a withering glare. “Mother, please.”

She grins and giggles around the bottle. “I’m just asking! That _is_ the Eren that Keith’s been mentioning, right? Eren Jaeger?”

“Ugh,” he shudders. “I get that you two are bros, but please don’t call Director Shadis ‘Keith’ in my presence; it’s so friggin’ weird. And yes, it is.”

 His mother hums thoughtfully and stares at him for a while. Probably the only person in the world who possesses the ability to make him feel uncomfortable is, through and through, his mother. Idly, he wonders if it’s the eyes; people have often told him that he has his mother’s eyes, heavy-lidded and stormy-colored. It’s a nice thought, considering that having a sharp gaze that could pierce steel is one of his favorite things about himself. However, having such a gaze directed at him is decidedly unpleasant.

Levi huffs and turns away before his mom says another word, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to get ready now. Control yourself.”

He hears her call back something about no promises, but he knows that if she’d been working in the studio, she probably had to piece together choreography for the community theater’s fall production of ‘Chicago’. He’s pretty certain that she won’t bother Eren if she has work to do.

Levi takes a shower just a bit quicker than he normally does, though. Just in case.

He’s feeling particularly good about himself today though, and he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s the fact that the weekend had once again gotten off to what he thinks is a great start, spending another day with Eren; if there was any belief in his mind that his attraction to Eren was one that would diminish with time, he was dead wrong. He actually found himself _wanting_ to spend time with the kid, which was an interesting thing for him to accept. When it came to all of his other friends, he wouldn’t say that he _didn’t_ want to spend time with them—rather, he just tended to never go out of his way to make plans first. His slightly introverted tendencies came into play there; he was never the one who would call someone up and invite them out. If there was a good movie coming out or a cheap restaurant opening in town, Erwin and Hanji—and sometimes Petra—would be the ones who called him, knowing that he’d likely want to go but probably wouldn’t extend the invitation first. That’s just the way he was.

With Eren, though. He found himself hovering in a strange place between the way he usually was, and wanting to branch out of that. To be the person that asked another person to spend some time together.

Stranger still was the fact that he didn’t find the idea as bothersome as he used to.

Levi realizes he can feel his face warming as he thinks about these things and briefly smothers himself with a towel. He tosses it to the side of the sink with an exasperated little breath through his nose, and then he rolls his eyes at his own melodrama and picks it up again, neatly folding it and hanging it on the towel rack. He stares at himself in the mirror—he’s shirtless but is wearing his favorite pair of black skinny jeans that he’d bought half because they were on sale and half because they made his ass look fantastic—and then shrugs and opens up the little cabinet under the sink, rummaging through the big black makeup box that’s stored there.

He’s hungry, and he knows Eren is hungry, but his grand-mère had always told him that sacrificing a bit of punctuality for appearance was never something to be frowned upon. He allows himself a fond smile of remembrance as he lays out a couple of choices for eyeliner before he tugs on a fresh, long-sleeve T-shirt. It’s a nice, deep red that stands out well against Eren’s black T-shirt, which he tosses on over that because he really can’t help himself. He ties off the hem of Eren’s shirt in a neat little side-bun and then rolls up the sleeves of the undershirt to his elbows before picking up the Kat Von D Tattoo Liner and going to work.

A Coco Chanel quote—the one about always fixing oneself up before leaving the house because of the possibility of having a date with destiny—had been one of his grand-mère’s favorites. If he thinks about it, he can almost feel her gentle hands with their immaculately manicured fingernails tucking his hair behind his ear the way she always did, and her elegantly accented voice murmuring, _‘And it’s best to be as pretty as possible for destiny.’_

Levi almost grins. It’s not a date, and Eren is certainly not destiny. But as he tromps back down the stairs and into the living room, his confidence level regarding his appearance is quite possibly higher than it’s ever been before.

The way that Eren’s eyes go wide and the dumbfounded expression that takes over his face is immensely satisfying. “You—” he begins, and color rises in his cheeks when his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again. “You took longer than I did.”

Levi shoots him a cool look, but there is a smug tilt to his lips that matches his tone when he replies, “I look better than you do.”

Eren doesn’t say anything when Levi calls goodbye to his mother and gives the dog one last pat on the head; in fact, he just stares at him all the way to the car, and even when they’re driving into town, all he does is stay silent and sneak glances that aren’t as secretive as he thinks. When they park on the main street and hop out of the car, that’s when Eren finally says something. “Is that my shirt?”

“Yep.”

They lapse back into silence, and Levi gets the feeling that he somehow has the upper hand. As he always does in social situations, he has absolutely no clue what to do with this information except just roll with it without worrying about what that might mean. He shivers when a cool breeze blows by and looks at Eren expectantly. “Well? Where do you wanna go?”

“Um,” he begins, awkwardly shrugging one shoulder and looking up and down the strip. “How about Utopia?”

Levi nods; Utopia is a family-owned place, so it’s friendly and cheap while still boasting some of the best burgers in town.

They’re waiting for their food to arrive when Levi can’t keep his mouth shut any longer and says mockingly, “Want a picture?”

Eren blinks. “Huh?”

Levi smirks around a sip of his drink. “A picture. You keep staring at me, but if there was something on my face, I figure you’d tell me. So it must be because you like what you see.”

Eren blushes furiously at being called out but he forces himself not to give any other indication that he’s flustered. He manages to keep his voice surprisingly even when he says sincerely, “You look really good.”

It’s Levi’s turn to blink then, eyes widening slightly in surprise. That was surprisingly forward, even for Eren. But Levi’s gaze softens then, and he places his palms flat on the table and leans in to murmur, “Thanks, Bright-Eyes.”

Eren unconsciously mimics his posture, and Levi watches with interest as his eyes darken and the pupils dilate. The sight sends a heady thrill through him, his heart pumping it through his veins. There’s no greater feeling than that of having proof that someone attractive is also attracted to you. But then Levi catches Eren’s gaze slowly wandering down to his lips, and he stands corrected because his mind is suddenly filled with a couple of things that could _definitely_ feel greater.

Their bubbly waitress arrives with the food then, and the moment is broken by simultaneous exhalations of breaths that neither of them realized they’d been holding, placing space between them once more. The mood drifts back into comfortable, casual territory, but Levi can’t completely place the way Eren had looked at him in the back of his mind. It’s there at the forefront, right with the underlying thought of, _‘I want him_.’

He’s almost surprised at himself. Everything about being seriously attracted to someone for the first time surprises him, really. It’s not as though he’s a stranger to this type of thing—it’s everywhere in the world, in the movies, in music, in the play. But Levi feels like this is a revelation. He likes someone. He wants someone.

Eren.

When they’re almost done with lunch, Levi finds himself thinking back to the week before when he’d visited Erwin with a bag of fries and a serious lack of self-awareness. _‘Do you want to date him?’_ That had been the question. Before, he’d dismissed it easily, too keyed up over the fact that he had feelings for a freshman—had feelings, period—to even think about it.

But now.

Now, it doesn’t even seem like the question is, _‘How do I get him to like me back?’_ Amazingly enough, he isn’t cocky enough to be one hundred percent certain that Eren is attracted to him, too. Still, it seems obvious that there’s something there.

Now, the question in Levi’s mind is, _‘What am I going to do about it?’_

His solution comes in a flash of clarity when they’re done with the meal and Eren reaches forward to drop a tip on the table. Levi reaches forward and grabs his wrist, not quite confident enough to grab his hand. Still, the action startles Eren enough for him to drop coins down on the tabletop with a clatter that is almost loud enough to drown out Levi’s soft, “Do you want to catch a movie?”

Eren freezes almost long enough for him to second-guess himself, but then those big, bright eyes practically sparkle, and his mouth quivers like he’s trying hard not to grin. He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, and Levi rolls his eyes.

“It’s a yes or no question, Jaeger.”

“…What movie?” Eren’s tone is filled with just enough mischief to let him know that he’d answered with a question on purpose, and Levi pinches the soft skin of Eren’s wrist as retribution.

“You little shit,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “I was going to say that you cover the bill and I’ll cover the movie, snacks included, but now—”

Eren cuts him off by flipping his hand and closing his fingers around Levi’s wrist, too. It’s a funny little action because of the way his grip starts off strong but then spasms before loosening, like he’d acted without thinking and suddenly feels unsure. Levi thinks that it’s a very Eren-like action, that.

“Okay,” Eren says, and it takes Levi a moment for him to realize that his question’s been answered.

“Okay.”

They decide to go see At World’s End and, since it’s been out for nearly a month and its novelty is dwindling, they manage to make it in time for the last showing of the afternoon and end up having the theater nearly all to themselves. Levi does pay attention to the movie, but it’s hard because he gets distracted by little things like the way Eren will laugh so hard that he snorts when he finds something funny enough, or how he’ll raise his brows and lean forward in his seat when a scene is particularly interesting.

The amount of times that Eren notices him staring would be embarrassing if Levi didn’t feel so smug about the fact that he’d caught Eren looking at him just as often.

Afterwards, neither of them particularly feel like going home just yet, so they exchange agreeing glances when they step out of the movie theater and spot a frozen yogurt shop across the street. Fair being fair, they split the cost and impulsively decide to eat on a little bench by the steadily-emptying street, even though the sun will be going down soon and the temperature is dropping.

“What are we going to use for the show?” Eren asks him around a bite of the frozen treat, and when Levi hums in confusion, he holds up the container. “For the frozen yogurt that Billy and Penny eat?”

“Oh,” Levi answers, and he thinks for a moment. For the next two weeks, they’ll be covering Act Two, so they’ll need some sort of prop for it. “For the run-through, we could probably get away with any type of food. Like, we could use pudding cups from the cafeteria or something so we get used to timing our lines around the food. By the time we’re on stage, though… We could fill Styrofoam cups with whipped cream. The audience won’t be able to tell the difference.”

Eren smiles and comments wishfully, “It’d be nice if we could just buy frozen yogurt before every performance.”

Levi snorts and points out, “Yeah, nice. Until the stage lights melt it all.”

Eren grimaces but gives an agreeing, short laugh, and then they fall back into comfortable silence. They get up later to throw away their empty containers, but they return to the bench and end up talking for so long that the sun goes down and the deep blue hues of evening edge their way over the sky.

In another moment of easy silence, Levi notices that they’ve ended up scooting together, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. He takes a second to allow himself to enjoy the warmth of Eren’s solid frame next to him, but as pleasant as the feeling is, it also makes that unfamiliar, great sensation well up in his chest. His skin, his clothes, everything feels too tight and tense. He feels like he could burst with something—a feeling, a phrase. But he can’t imagine how to put the sensations that run through him whenever Eren is around into words, so he sits there and taps his barbell against the back of his teeth, thinking about what to do next. What to say.

Eren beats him to it. “Is this a date?”

They both suck in sharp breaths—Eren because he is surprised that he’d actually said that out loud, and Levi because he is most definitely _not_ expecting the way his heart seizes in his chest, painfully pleasurable and pushing the foreign sensation ballooning behind his ribs to the point where it feels like they might crack. He honestly wonders if something might be _wrong_ with him.

_‘You’re attracted to someone—of course something’s wrong with you. You’re insane. All of this is insane.’_

Levi blinks and takes another, more even breath, reminding himself that Eren had asked him a question and he has yet to answer. He’s not sure how to answer. He knows how he _wants_ to answer. But.

And then there’s a soft hum of uncertainty from Eren, and he mumbles something too inaudible, so Levi gives him a confused look. Eren glances up, meets his eyes, and forces out an almost-shaky but entirely sincere, “Can I kiss you?”

_‘Oh.’_

“Yeah.”

Levi huffs out a faintly shocked breath and immediately looks away, but then Eren’s breath hitches and he blurts out, “Which question were you answering?”

Levi snorts and shakes his head, incredulous. The question is so ridiculous, so completely _Eren_. _‘Fuck it_ ,’ he thinks almost cheerfully, turning back to look at Eren. This shouldn’t be so difficult. Not at all. He’s the older one. Even though he has no personal experience in this area of life, he still has two years of general life experience on Eren, so he opens his mouth to speak. He plans on saying something witty, something cool and collected that completely masks the fact that his heart is threatening to leap into his throat—something like, _‘Does it matter?’_ but every plan flies out the window when Eren glances down at his mouth again. _‘Ah, shit.’_ It’s a soft, faint thought.

Carefully, much more calmly than he feels, Levi leans in. The soft glow of the street lamps makes Eren’s eyes shine, but maybe that’s just also him reacting to the movement. Either way, Levi feels the slow bloom of pleasure in his chest—God, he really is attractive. In a more coherent moment, he’d be embarrassed at how easily the thought slips through his mind.

He stops just short of him, though, less than an inch between them. It’s for a stupid reason.

Eren is taller than he is, and Levi would not only have to crane his neck to reach, but he’d have to lift himself off the bench. Just a bit. Because he's too short. It takes a nanosecond for him to think, _‘You fucking fuck, you are more hopeless than Eren is because at least_ he _has an excuse for being so dumb, but_ you—’

Eren closes the distance with a soft, happy sigh, and even though it’s getting cold out, his lips are soft and warm and Levi’s eyes slide shut of their own accord, because he’s absolutely certain that he has no control over anything right now, and he doesn’t really mind. He can’t help the way his mouth curls up in a tiny smile when he registers that Eren’s lips are trembling— _‘Am I his first kiss?’_ —and in a move that honestly surprises him, he reaches for Eren’s hand at the same time that his tongue darts out to trace the seam of his lips.

Eren’s breath hitches around a quiet noise in the back of his throat that goes straight to Levi’s head. The twin sensations of Eren’s left hand holding his at the same time that his right comes up and tentatively brushes through his hair pulls the same, faint sound from his mouth—a soft breath, a moan. And then Eren is kissing him harder, tongue sliding into his mouth, around his own, warm and wet and _good_.

That’s all Levi can think. He feels good. He tastes good. _God._

They pull away after what feels like a long time and not enough time. Levi opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is Eren’s blush, face gone completely, visibly scarlet under the light of the streetlamps. He’d tease him, but he’s pretty sure that the color on his face matches.

Plus, he can’t really think of anything to say. He just looks at Eren, hoping that he can convey something, even if he’s not sure what that something is.

And then Eren speaks, and for all that Levi jokes about him being an idiot, he still knows what to say, and how to say it. “I really like you, Levi.”

Unconsciously, Levi tightens his fingers over Eren’s. _‘There it is_ ,’ he thinks idly, a faint smile quirking up the corners of his lips, still aware of the fading sensation of their kiss. But, he’s still Levi, so all he says is, “Duh.”

Eren laughs then, loud and happy. It’s infectious, and Levi snorts and turns away as an honest smile breaks out over his face. They’re still holding hands, and they continue all the way back to the car until Levi pulls away because he already tends to be enough of a reckless driver with both hands, and he tells Eren so. It doesn’t stop him from pouting though.

But when he’s parked in the Jaegers’ driveway to drop him off, Levi tugs Eren back for one more kiss. It’s not as passionate as the first was, but it still makes that dizzying thrill thrum through him, and Eren still lets out that soft, little moan from the back of his throat.

Levi pulls back when Eren tries to deepen the kiss, though, to say, “I like you, too.”

Eren blinks, confused for a moment. But then his face lights up the same way that it did the night of callbacks, when Levi had dropped him off and told him that he was talented. It comes as a surprise to him, that Eren would look at him the same exact way even though the words that earned the look were so different.

That smile, though. Levi almost wishes that he’d realized it sooner—that his feelings were reciprocated. He wonders if it had been that way all this time, but he knows that there’s time to talk about it more some other day. For now, he wishes Eren goodnight, watches him walk to the door, and rolls his eyes at but still returns Eren’s enthusiastic wave.

Levi drives home a little slower than usual that night. His heart, however, is beating so fast that it feels like it’ll fly right out of his chest. He waits until he’s in his own room, though—laying in his bed and mentally revisiting every single moment of the day to the point where he’s certain that the memories are imprinted in his brain—to tug the collar of Eren’s shirt up and over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut, and pressing an elated grin into the fabric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I NEED TO GO TO BED NOW NOBODY LOOK AT ME.


	8. Rising Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Eren makes him a different kind of anxious. A good kind of anxious. Levi doesn’t think that anyone is more surprised by how much more eager he is to get to rehearsal now, to really work—work with Eren—than himself. The things that he has to look forward to now have compounded, and it’s impossible to ignore the feelings that stirs in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Having a boyfriend is weird.

Levi thinks that the term ‘boyfriend’ is weird in general; it’s literally just two words stuck together to form a single term that seems unsuited for the depth of what it represents. It also sounds childish—at least, that’s what he’s always believed. Still, it’s not like there’s a more suitable word, so when Erwin winds up mentioning to the lunch table on Monday that Eren is his _boyfriend_ , Levi rolls his eyes and stays silent in the face of everyone else’s reactions.

_‘Note to self: never tell Erwin anything, ever. He’s a piece of shit.’_

“Wow, Levi,” Ymir drawls, affecting an overly-impressed tone of voice. “Robbing the cradle, aren’t we?”

He narrows his eyes at her and responds with a flippant, “Bitch, please. Christa is, what, fourteen?”

“She turns fifteen in a couple of months!”

“ _You_ turn _nineteen_ in a couple of months.”

Ymir points a french fry at him threateningly and says, “Alright, twink—” This draws an amused snort from Levi. “—I haven’t even asked her out yet, so, your point is moot.”

“ _Yet._ We all know you think about it.”

“I think about a _lot_ of things,” she mutters suggestively, popping the fry into her mouth with a wicked grin. Next to her, Reiner snickers.

“Is it weird that I didn’t know you two liked each other?” Hanji chirps, briefly glancing up from her AP English notes. “I feel like I should have spotted that.”

Levi gives a noncommittal shrug as Petra chimes in with, “I wondered about it. But I didn’t want to say anything in case I was completely off-base.”

“You weren’t,” Erwin says with a smug smile, and Levi jabs an elbow into his ribs. He laughs it off. “What? She was right.”

“I don’t understand why this is such a fascinating topic for everyone,” Levi mutters, checking his phone for what feels like the fifth time in the past two minutes. He’d gotten a text from Eren earlier that had apologetically said he wouldn’t be at lunch because he needed to finish typing up an assignment in the library. Levi had told him he was an idiot for procrastinating and that he shouldn’t worry because they’d see each other at practice. Still, nothing is able to ward off his newly obtained habit of compulsively checking his phone for messages, even though he knows there won’t be any.

“Because it’s you,” Annie says, flicking her bangs out of her face to give him a look that says the answer should have been obvious. “I can count the exact number of times that Jean tried to ask Mikasa out last year, or how many freshman girls I heard making that stupid joke about Bertl and, ‘ _You know what they say about guys with big noses,’_ ” she mocks, purposely sounding air-headed. Next to her, Bertholdt buries his face deeper in his copy of _Atlas Shrugged,_ vainly attempting to hide his mortified blush. Annie continues, “But even with the way theater kids are about gossip, this is literally the first time I’m hearing anything about you. Plus, it’s also surprising because Eren is a little shit.”

“…Yeah.” Levi concedes, because it’s true.

“So,” Petra begins after a while, folding her arms on the tabletop and leaning in with an almost predatory smile that any other person would find terrifying. Levi, however, knows her well enough to simply quirk a brow and wait for the question. She giggles. “Are you two going to go to homecoming together, then?”

Levi blinks, the action telling. He is mildly startled. He clicks the barbell against the backs of his teeth for a few seconds before carefully admitting, “I didn’t think about that.”

Everyone at the table—even Annie, who tends towards indifference about most things—shoots him an incredulous look.

“What?” he snaps.

Reiner is tactful enough to make sure that his tone is neutral when he points out, “Homecoming is in two weeks.”

Levi frowns at him but doesn’t answer right away—he’s thinking. He goes to homecoming every year. It always surprises people, but he fucking loves homecoming. The dance at least, because he loves dressing up and dances in general, even shitty high school ones that only go until eleven and mandate setting aside half an hour of everyone’s time to fake excitement over the winners of what is essentially a glorified popularity contest. _‘Except Erwin’ll probably be on the Homecoming Court again this year; maybe he’ll win this time and I’ll only be half as annoyed about the whole thing.’_

He’s always gone in a group of friends, though. The theater kids always stick together for school events, and even though he technically hadn’t been a theater kid until this year, he was still considered part of the group. Even those of them who had dates still spent the entire dance with everyone—the only difference was that they stayed on the floor during the slow songs. Levi doesn’t see the point of feeling bad about all the times that he hasn’t had a date. He hadn’t needed or wanted one.

But if he’s honest with himself, it’s not like finally having the opportunity is unpleasant.

Levi keeps that to himself, though, and instead says, “Eren can’t dance for shit.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with that during our first Sunday practice,” Erwin says, chuckling at the dark glower that earns him.

Levi fiddles with the hoops in his ear and purses his lips, pausing. He exhales a slow breath through his nose and then says, “I’m assessing the risk.” He rolls his eyes. “Not that it’s not a nice idea, but I’d rather not have to worry about fielding shitty comments from a bunch of meathead jocks who think they’re being cool when they make fun of the gay couple. No offense,” he adds, throwing a glance at Reiner.

The junior shakes his head apologetically and says, “No, I get it.”

They all fall silent after that. Levi frowns again; no matter how well they all stick together, there are always going to be moments when others will catch them off guard. There are plenty of running jokes in the program about how they think they’re the best group in the school, and while it’s fun to play at being stuck-up, the truth of the matter is that they have to be thick-skinned to put up with some of the athletes—particularly the football team.

The bitterness between the theater program and the football program is particularly pronounced; it’s no secret that there is resentment on the latter’s part because of the fact that although they’re athletic and popular, they’re also the school’s least successful program, while theater is unarguably the best. The competitive drama trophies lining the display cases in the lobby are proof of that. The last time the theater department brought home a first place trophy had been a year ago. The last time that the football team had even _made_ it to state was sometime in the early nineties. Never mind how long it had been since they’d actually placed.

They’d never won.

Reiner is probably the only jock who can get away with being a theater kid, but despite his dual involvement, it’s still not enough to break down the wall separating the two social groups. All it does is mean that he gets left out of the antagonism on either side. Levi doesn’t resent him, though—nobody does. It’s a simple fact that being put in such an uncomfortable position doesn’t make it his fault, and he’s always been quick to stick up for anyone being picked on.

Understanding of his caring nature is what prompts Annie to say, “Brother Bear Braun can kick the shit out of anybody who makes fun of you guys.” She adds, “ _I_ can kick the shit out of anybody who makes fun of you guys.”

“I’ve got a Bowie knife in my house,” Ymir throws in.

Hanji chirps, “Petra’s got a lead pipe in her garage.”

Levi smirks as Erwin holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, friends,” he says, half warningly and half amused.

“Please, Erwin, don’t act like you wouldn’t retaliate if something happened.”

“I would at least be a bit more subtle about it.”

Levi gives him a mildly incredulous stare. “Excuse me, ruthless. You’d turn into a bigger, man-version of Regina George and destroy their lives through psychological warfare and Machiavellian tactics that you learned from your dad’s golf buddies; at least with the rest of us, there’s a chance they’d be given mercy in the form of death.”

“I think he’d be half Regina George and half Gretchen Wieners,” Hanji says seriously. “Since he also always seems to know everything.”

“That’s why his eyebrows are so big,” Levi deadpans, propping his chin up on one hand and gesturing to Erwin with the other. “They’re full of secrets.”

Levi tunes out of the discussion after that, not interested in everyone debating whether the musical adaption will live up to the movie. _‘How is that even a question? Kathy fucking Bates is writing it, ‘Mean Girls’ is in good hands.’_ Instead, he watches the clock and wills it to tick faster.

It’s during moments of quiet reflection like this that he realizes how much he’s missed the feeling of anticipation, like his day doesn’t really even begin until it’s three in the afternoon and he’s walking towards the big gym, ready for rehearsal.

~~~

“You two blend well together,” Ms. Brzenska murmurs absently, reaching forward to mark a note in her sheet music.

Levi rolls his eyes when he hears the others—the members of the Bad Horse Chorus and the Captain Hammer Fanclub—muffle snickers from the back of the music room. He angles himself a little better so he can give them all the finger behind his back without Ms. Brzenska seeing, which only earns him another set of quiet giggles.

News about him and Eren has spread like wildfire, as news always does within the theater program. Levi is honestly a little bewildered by the reactions the others have had. Among his close circle of friends, he’d expected the positivity and the good-natured teasing—that, he’d seen coming. What he hadn’t expected at all was the intense fascination that everyone outside that little group of friends had developed with him, more so than usual.

All afternoon, passing by other members of the program as he’d made his way from class to class, he’d received more friendly acknowledgements and congratulations than he knew what to do with—most of it coming from a few sophomores and a lot of freshman. He hadn’t bothered to wonder why they suddenly seemed less afraid to approach him; it didn’t take a genius to understand that the news about him dating Eren made him seem more like a normal human being and less like a superior, which was how the underclassmen tended to view the seniors in particular.

Being the habitual people-watcher that he is, Levi isn’t unfamiliar with the fact that most people interact with him differently than the way they interact with everybody else. If he were to compare himself with Erwin or Petra, or even Hanji, it’s easy for him to tell that they all have an element of approachability that he quite obviously lacks. Erwin is charming, Petra is kind, and Hanji has an infectious sort of enthusiasm that can make anything seem interesting.

Levi isn’t stupid. He knows that he’s good-looking, but his features mix in such an odd way—heavy-lidded eyes, but beady pupils and thin, slanted brows that make his stare look perpetually intimidating at best. Add that to his aquiline features—thin nose and high cheekbones—and flat mouth, the overall impression is attractive but cold.

If the way he looks doesn’t keep people away, his blunt personality definitely does the trick. It takes a certain degree of determination to be able to put up with him, he thinks.

Or in Eren’s case, sheer stubbornness.

 _‘Not that I mind,’_ he thinks when Ms. Brzenska dismisses the two of them back to the big gym. He gives Eren a faintly amused look when the brunette hesitantly reaches for his hand. “I’m not gonna rip your arm off, kid.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Eren jokes, whining in protest when Levi scoffs at him and pulls away.

“We’re getting plenty of stares when we just stand next to each other; someone will probably fucking explode if they see us holding hands,” Levi snarks, rolling his eyes at the thought.

Eren shrugs good-naturedly. “It’s a little weird, yeah,” he admits. “But it’s nice to know that people aren’t, like… _bothered_ by it or anything.”

“Bothered? Yeah right; they’re all fucking nuts. Earlier today, Hanji asked me which one of us was Brad and which one was Angelina.”

Eren actually pauses to think about it. “I’m Brad.”

“Fuck you, you are _not_ Brad.”

“Oh, and you are?”

“I’m _both_ ,” Levi says self-importantly.

Eren grins at him and shakes his head as they turn and enter the big gym through the breezeway, but he doesn’t say anything in response because Pixis spots them and claps his hands together, calling, “Perfect, our leads are here. Let’s get started. Keith?”

“Alright,” Shadis shouts from his seat on the bleachers. Bertholdt is sitting next to him, since Moist is one of the few characters not in the number. “Here’s the drill; this number is the opening of Act Two, and it’s a big one, so you’ll be using the entire space. Billy, your section will be entirely on the stage; Penny, you’re on the floor. I’ll be watching closely for anybody goofing off; if you don’t take rehearsal seriously, then maybe you don’t need to be in the show,” he finishes threateningly. “Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, sir!” is the collective shout; by now, everybody’s used to Director Shadis’ intimidation tactics, but that still doesn’t make him any less terrifying.

“Okay lovelies, here’s what we’re going to do,” Pixis says cheerfully before pointing at Levi. “You, go and stand center stage.”

Levi turns and head back into the breezeway, turning into a little alcove on the side with a small set of paint-splattered steps that leads backstage. All of the lights in the gym are on, so the backstage area is still dark. Levi carefully navigates past the half-finished Coin Wash set and a couple of other stage props, making his way to his assigned position.

He watches Pixis send up a few ensemble members, saying, “The people onstage, you’re going to be bums for this number. Look seedy. Do hobo-ish things, huddle around an oil drum on fire, something like that. Milius and Dazz, downstage left. Mina, downstage right, and make a mental note: I want you to find a trench coat and some heels, honey, ‘cause you’re gonna be a hooker. Got it?”

“Um… is that allow—”

“Sweetie, we’ve done Guys and Dolls before, and that has a burlesque number in it. You’re fine. Just think ‘Pretty Woman.’”

Levi snorts, and when she glances nervously at him, he shakes his head and mutters, “Relax; it’s supposed to be funny, not serious. Don’t worry about it.” He acknowledges her grateful smile with a nod and then turns his attention back to Pixis.

Rehearsal goes a little longer than usual, but they manage to successfully lay the framework for the whole number. Pixis is a skilled choreographer—Levi knows that his mother has worked with him a couple of times for the summer shows that the community theater puts on. Shadis and Ms. Brzenska have strict, no-nonsense attitudes about everything, but Pixis tends to be more on the playful side. Levi’s heard stories though; he is a terrifying man if people goof off during rehearsals, because not paying attention when you learn choreography is a good way to risk injuries on the stage. Luckily, everybody is fairly diligent and attentive, and most of the movement in ‘My Eyes’ takes place on the floor, where Eren’s section of the number is.

It’s around nine thirty when Pixis calls out, “Alright boys and girls, show it to me one more time and then we can all go home! Starting positions, go!”

Levi walks offstage left and listens to everybody else shuffle around. After a few moments, Shadis calls, “Everybody ready?”

“Yeah!”

There is a pause before the first few notes of a prerecorded piano version of ‘My Eyes’ filters through the sound system, and Levi shoves his hands into his pockets and fixes a faintly glum scowl on his face before stepping out on stage.

The experience of becoming another person has always been something that’s fascinated Levi; a common saying among theater kids is that people who love acting love the chance to be somebody else for a change, and that’s generally the truth. He’ll admit that part of the reason theater is so enjoyable is because he gets an opportunity to experience the life of another person, and there’s something inherently exhilarating about that. He’s never been one to actively wish that he wasn’t the kind of person that he ended up being—he’s far too self-assured for that—but being able to bare every aspect of a character’s personality on stage is a kind of exhibition that he thoroughly enjoys.

Levi thinks it makes sense that the fact that his own range of typically displayable emotions tends to be on the small side, is the reason why he won’t hesitate to throw himself headfirst into the extremes of a role. And in theater, extremes are necessary; Shadis is always telling them to go big with their actions, because it’s easier to tell them that they’re doing too much, rather than to try and coax every little thing out of them. It’s go big or go home, and Levi takes that to heart.

He tries not to be too self-aware when he’s on stage, but his sharp gaze doesn’t miss the approving nod Shadis makes when he darts to the edge of the stage, arms flung out in frustration, and almost desperately sings, “I cannot believe my eyes! How the world’s filled with filth and lies!” He gentles his tone as he reaches the end of the stanza, slowly stepping back as he drops his arms and bows his head to look down at the floor, where Eren is.

The idea is that the stage is Billy’s domain—a dark, seedy-looking street corner where he’s the only thing that’s really moving, and when his first stanza is over, the lights will go down on him and up on the floor. The floor is Penny’s—the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter, bright and cheerful, where all of the movement revolves around Penny. The contrast is deliberate, and when his stanza is over and he has to remain frozen for the next one, he uses the opportunity to watch Eren.

One of Eren’s best qualities is his voice, and the reason why it’s so captivating is probably because such a pure, clear sound isn’t exactly what anyone would expect to come from someone who can be so obstinate at times. The kid knows it now, too, and he no longer has to be given as many notes about projecting like he had when rehearsals had first begun.

Now, he’s in his element, a bright point of energy in the center of the ensemble and Erwin moving around him. There’s a comedic element in their performance—Pixis had choreographed it so that a somewhat unwilling Captain Hammer would be pushed along with the movement of the homeless people around the floor, but this is just so Penny can remain in the center of the floor as the true focus. It’s not much of a problem for Eren, though, because he’s gotten surprisingly good at drawing attention to him without relying on much movement.

Levi has to remind himself not to react to Eren’s voice, sweet and earnest, the smile that he’s undoubtedly wearing practically audible. Where Levi’s portion of the song is darkly intense, Eren’s is gentle and hopeful, and it makes a keen kind of affection well up within Levi that he channels into his character when the second stanza ends and his voice joins Eren’s.

It feels like callbacks all over again, the real world around them fading into the background and his focus tunneling down to pure, electric sensation and sound. Their voices are evenly matched, a kind of number within itself as the notes dance together and swell when the number reaches its climax. Where Billy’s phrases pull ahead, Penny’s follow almost immediately in a way that’s not quite an echo, nor is it an answer. Their voices blend and then fade out, and the music ends as Penny exits, leaving Billy alone onstage to stare at the audience.

Levi blinks and takes a breath to dispel the melancholy left over from the character, and then he blinks again in surprise when he hears clapping. From their spot in the bleachers as observers, Bertholdt, the Bad Horse Chorus, and the Captain Hammer Fanclub are all cheering. Shadis rolls his eyes at them, but when Pixis leans over to say something to him, he nods in agreement before calling everyone forward.

Levi makes his way back down to the floor, taking care not to step on anyone’s fingers as he moves to sit up at the front next to Eren. He glances up when he hears Shadis clear his throat, and the director nods once at the pair of them before saying quietly, “You two have come a long way since callbacks. Good work tonight.”

Director Shadis isn’t one to hand out praise lightly. Levi acknowledges the statement with a gratified smirk and turns an amused gaze on Eren when the latter answers with a loud, “Thank you, sir!”

Shadis fixes him with a critical stare. “Don’t get cocky, now.”

Eren shrinks back a little. “N-no, sir. Sorry.”

Levi snorts; he hears enough stories from his mom to know that Shadis is just messing with the kid, but he won’t tell Eren that. He just gives him an entertained look and shakes his head when Eren asks him what’s so funny.

Once Shadis is done giving closing notes and dismisses everyone for the night, there’s a private agreement among the cast to hit up the nearby McDonald’s even though it’s nearing ten and lots of them have homework. There is a moment of fearful awkwardness when they all walk in and see Shadis, Pixis, and Ms. Brzenska standing at the counter, but it’s dispelled by Shadis fixing them all with an incredulous stare and saying, “I better not hear any complaints about being tired tomorrow during rehearsal.”

Levi is the one who takes the bait and responds with a pert, “Teenagers are used to staying up late; I think we’re the ones who should be telling you that.”

There’s a collective sharp inhale from the rest of the group as they watch for Shadis’ response; the only kind of person who would dare to sass Shadis is a dead one. The director stares at him for a moment before saying simply, “Alright, whoever wants Levi’s part can have it.”

This startles a laugh from everyone else, but Levi just smirks and retorts, “My mom would have your head.”

“I’m aware. You inherited her attitude.”

The rest of the night is surprisingly enjoyable; the seniors decide to be fearless and insist on sitting at the same table as the adults. Eren wants to stick close to Levi and manages to convince Armin to join them with an earnest, “They’re not _that_ scary.”

And really, they aren’t. Something that Levi has noticed about the Shiganshina High Theater Program is that a lot of its success can probably be attributed to the relationship that the adults have with the students. They aren’t as commanding as other grownups in positions of power tend to be; rather than constantly telling everyone what to do, they emphasize treating everyone like equals—professionals, really. There is no distinction of ‘students’ and ‘teachers’, and although that lack of a boundary tends to throw people off at first, Levi appreciates it very much.

Sitting in the booth with delicious—and admittedly unhealthy—food, listening to everyone laughing and being lively, and enjoying the way that Eren’s fingers curl over his on the tabletop without hesitation, Levi thinks that as far as Mondays go, this wasn’t bad.

Not bad at all.

~~~

“I heard the teachers talking about us today,” Eren says Tuesday night, when everyone’s packing up and getting ready to go home. It’s a lucky night—they’d accomplished so much that they were ahead of schedule and Shadis had dismissed them early.

Levi scoffs, “Yeah, you get used to that. Teachers are bigger gossips than students are.”

Eren looks supremely uncomfortable with the idea, and it reminds him that the kid is a month into his freshman year. Clearly, he doesn’t know just how different things can be in high school. “Really?”

Levi smirks at him. “Oh yeah. Their lives are boring as shit, so they’ve gotta entertain themselves some way.” His gaze softens when Eren makes a face, and he says, “Relax, it’s funny when you think about it. C’mon, kid, stop by the cafeteria with me. I want a drink.”

“You’re going to get in trouble,” Eren tells him, but he waves goodbye at Armin and follows him anyway, smiling.

“Tch, look at all the fucks I give.” Levi doesn’t want to risk Eren getting in trouble, though, so he tells him to wait outside the doors while he pops in and checks to make sure the coast is clear. Technically, students aren’t allowed in the cafeteria past five, but everyone makes exceptions for the theater kids, who are in practice from six to nine and tend to get hungry. Everyone except one staff member who always seems to have it out for them and makes it a point to write them up if they so much as take a step inside.

He’s in and out quick enough, but not before grabbing Eren’s favorite drink—and wondering when he’d learned that bit of information in the first place. The pleasantly surprised grin that it earns him, though, makes him decide that he doesn’t care.

“You need a ride home?” Levi asks as they walk past what’s termed ‘the football hall’. It’s right by the locker rooms and a set of double doors that leads straight out to the field, where they can see the JV team running drills. Levi wrinkles his nose, both at the sight and the perpetual smell of sweat and grime that always seems to fill the hall.

“Nah,” Eren says, shaking his head. “I’m just gonna wait for Mikasa to be done with crew. It shouldn’t be too long.”

Levi shrugs in response and doesn’t say anything when Eren follows him to the side doors that he needs to leave through to get to the student parking lot, even though it’s in the opposite direction of where the crew works. He clicks his barbell against the back of his teeth a few times, and it’s the only sound cutting through their comfortable silence.

The mechanics of a relationship are still foreign to him. Levi literally has no fucking clue what he’s doing most of the time, and he finds himself caught between carrying on the way he always has and wondering if maybe there are certain things that he should and shouldn’t say, or do. Right now, for example, he knows that he’s allowed to kiss Eren goodnight. He wants to kiss Eren goodnight. But an unfamiliar sensation—insecurity, maybe, but he’s not sure why he should feel insecure at all—flutters in the pit of his stomach and makes him pause.

Levi realizes that the last time he was this anxious about anything was when he was a freshman, staring up at his name on the cast list of Sina Academy’s fall production. And then not long after that moment, when he was cutting across school grounds to get to the bus stop and two older boys had cornered him, furious that a freshman could land a lead role. That was the last time he’d really worried about anything, because after that, nothing had really seemed like it could be worse. It’s a sobering realization.

But Eren makes him a different kind of anxious. A good kind of anxious. Levi doesn’t think that anyone is more surprised by how much more eager he is to get to rehearsal now, to really _work_ —work with Eren—than himself. The things that he has to look forward to now have compounded, and it’s impossible to ignore the feelings that stirs in him.

 _‘I don’t know whether it’s sad or hilarious that this is probably the first time I’m actually acting like a dumb teenager_ ,’ he thinks, and then he huffs an amused breath through his nose. When Eren gives him a quizzical look, Levi just shakes his head and reaches out to pull him in for a quick kiss.

Or at least, it’s supposed to be a quick kiss. Levi indulges Eren when the latter lets out a pleased, faint whine and slides his tongue across his bottom lip. That, however, somehow ends up with him pressed against the lockers, Eren’s hands pinning his own, flushed and trying not to pant when they finally pull apart.

A little embarrassed by how uncomfortably tight his jeans have gotten, he shoves Eren back and mutters, “There are cameras, dumbass.”

Eren just chuckles breathlessly and gives him a grin that is far too self-satisfied to be decent. “You weren’t complaining.”

Levi snorts. “Let’s see you try to talk with my tongue shoved down your throat.” Eren blushes at that, and all that does is make Levi gaze at him with something very close to fondness. He smirks and says, “Okay, we’ve been standing here way too long. I’m going home.”

“Okay. Text me when you’re there,” Eren says; he’s gotten in the habit of wanting to know when Levi gets home safely, and it makes Levi wonder why he finds that so endearing.

The only response he gives as he heads out the door, though, is a murmured, “Yeah, yeah.” He ends up throwing one more glance over his shoulder as he steps outside, and when he sees Eren smile warmly and wave, he can’t help but smile back.

~~~

Wednesday ends up being an off day for Levi, made even worse by the fact that he doesn’t see Eren at all in school. He checks his phone a couple of times throughout the day, and when he doesn’t see any new messages, he figures that Eren is probably sick or taking a rest day. Half of the theater kids are missing, actually, and if he weren’t shooting for perfect attendance, he’d probably be playing hooky too. As it is, he just grits his teeth and bears his way through the school day, itching for Thursday afternoon to arrive as soon as possible.

It’s when he doesn’t see Eren all day on Thursday that he thinks there might be a problem. By the time six o’clock rolls around and he’s sent no less than three messages asking Eren where he is, Levi is feeling the most unpleasant mixture of apprehension and anger. Anger, because missing even one rehearsal is already highly frowned upon if you’re an ensemble member. If you’re a lead, it’s forbidden, and it gets you kicked out of the show. Period.

He has no idea what the hell Eren could be doing that would justify missing practice.

He scans the faces of his cast mates around him one more time as they all sit in the big gym, waiting for their director to arrive. There’s Erwin, wearing a serious expression as he speaks with Petra. He catches Levi’s gaze and glances around before looking back with a worried little frown. Armin and Sasha are sitting with the Bad Horse Chorus and Bertholdt—they’re talking to Reiner, and Levi frowns when he notices that the normally relaxed junior looks incredibly upset about something.

Not at all an unfeeling person, despite what his appearance suggests, Levi is about to walk over and ask what’s wrong when all the chatter in the gym falls silent. He glances at the breezeway and tries to suppress the cold feeling that settles in the pit of his stomach when he sees everyone—the adults, including Ms. Nanaba and Mr. Z, and crew—walking in. The mood spreads though, and soon the air is atmosphere is unnerving, filled with tension so thick it could be cut by a knife.

Levi forces himself to watch Director Shadis instead of looking for Eren again. He catches himself clicking his barbell against his teeth and scowls at himself before carefully schooling his expression into one of neutrality. Too many negative scenarios that could be the reason for this gathering are blurring through his head right now, and it makes focusing on what Shadis seems about to say a more difficult task than he’d like to admit.

He is all-ears, though, when Shadis says grimly, “I have some bad news.”

The silence is deafening, and it’s now that Levi acutely remembers how negative the hive mind attitude of theater can be at times; the troubled energy spreads and is amplified from person to person.

Shadis watches them carefully before continuing, “Some of you may have heard and some of you may have not, but there was an incident Tuesday night. Due to certain circumstances, Eren Jaeger was suspended for the rest of the week.”

There are a few reactions, but the most vehement is Levi’s snarled, “ _What?_ ”

Shadis watches him when he speaks. “I’ve been in meetings all day. The reason we’re having this group chat—all of us—is because I’ve been told that I should remind all of you that the school has a very strict policy against getting into fights.”

“And what about the other people involved?” The angry voice belongs to Mikasa, and Levi turns to see her glaring fiercely up at the adults, hands balled into fists. “Are _they_ getting this little talk? Considering they _started_ the whole—”

“Ackerman,” Mr. Z quietly warns. Levi detects the slightest note of sympathy in his tone, and it’s enough to silence Mikasa, though she doesn’t stop scowling.

Director Shadis’ voice is deliberately dispassionate when he replies, “I’m sure Coach Balto has spoken to the other party involved.”

Levi’s eyes narrow down to slits, and he feels cold, blind fury rise in his throat as he thinks back to Tuesday night—after he’d left, Eren would have gone back to wait for Mikasa, back through that disgusting, smelly hall—and he suddenly realizes why Reiner had looked so upset. _‘Coach Balto. The fucking football team.’_

He almost misses Shadis’ next words. “There’s more. The administration feels that Eren truly needs to learn a lesson from this. Shiganshina High has zero tolerance for fighting. On top of suspending him, they want me to remove him from the show.”

“No.” The words are flying out of Levi’s mouth before he’s even aware of what he’s saying, but he refuses to back down from the director’s unnerving stare when he repeats, “No. You are not kicking Eren out of the show; if he’s out, then I fucking quit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ʘ_ʘ)ノ⌒●~*  
> ^Me dropping the bomb.


	9. Some Kind of Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sternly, Shadis says, “Freshman or senior, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re a part of the Shiganshina High Theater Program, it would take a hell of a lot more than some bitter old windbags to take you out. Mr. Z wouldn’t let it happen, Ms. Brzenska wouldn’t let it happen, Pixis wouldn’t let it happen, Ms. Nanaba wouldn’t let it happen, and I wouldn’t let it happen. That goes for everyone.” A beat, and then, more quietly, “This isn’t Sina Academy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhh, shhh bbys -gathers you close- momma's gotchu.

Levi’s first thought is, _‘Wow, I belong in the drama program alright.’_

His second thought is more of a mildly surprised observation that Shadis hasn’t reprimanded him—for his outburst, for his language, or for both. Instead, he’s scrutinizing Levi with what looks like faint approval. Levi is acutely aware that everybody, not just the director, is staring at him now.

He briefly grinds his teeth, the frustrated clench of his jaw and the throbbing vein in his temple the only signs that he is absolutely furious. Otherwise, his face is a carefully constructed, blank mask, and his voice is far calmer than he feels when he speaks, clearly and deliberately. “We’ve got three weeks until the show opens. That’s already a risky window of time to recast Penny and teach the _replacement_.” He practically spits the word out like it’s poisonous. He makes a show of shrugging and leaning back on both hands, crossing one leg over the other, and his voice is as nonchalant as his pose when he continues, “You lose two leads, and you’re shit out of luck. No show for Shiganshina High.”

“All that wasted money,” Erwin says, and a slow smirk makes its way onto Levi’s face when he hears the coldly calculating tone in his friend’s voice. “You already took Levi’s measurements and ordered the Dr. Horrible costume—that alone cost upwards of a hundred dollars.”

“I can guarantee you that’s not gonna fit anyone else,” Levi says flatly. “On the off chance you manage to recast both of us.”

“You can’t push back the day of the play, though!” Hanji bursts out, standing up from the crowd of crew kids. “The lighting’s already been rented; we wouldn’t get a refund.”

“How are you going to keep the band?” Petra asks. “They have a schedule, too.”

“And what about all the materials that _we_ paid for out of our own pockets? Or the money that our parents contribute?” Ymir snaps, cocking a brow at the adults whose expressions have grown increasingly bemused with each outburst. “Is this school run by a bunch of morons? What exactly do they think is going to get accomplished by pissing off everyone involved in their most successful program?”

Levi casts a glance around at all of the other students. The juniors that he knows are stone-faced, nodding in solemn agreement. But the sophomores and freshman look nervous, like they aren’t sure that they won’t get in trouble for speaking up. Levi catches Armin’s eye; the kid is watching him, and his eyes widen in surprise when Levi points at him and calls, “What about you, Arlert?”

“Huh?”

“This is your first year in the program.” Levi says, eyes glittering with harsh intensity. “Are you going to try out for the spring show if your best friend gets kicked out of the play because a bunch of shitty old men are trying to make an example out of him?”

The director begins a cautionary, “Levi—”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what this is about, Shadis,” Levi snaps, not even flinching at the thunderous look he receives for his insolent tone. He’s too pissed off for that; this situation is too similar, hits too close to home for him to care about getting himself in trouble. Every other student in the room freezes, but Levi scoffs and figures that he’s already run his mouth off, so he might as well keep going.

“How many people on the school board have kids on the football team, huh? How much do you wanna bet that it grinds their fucking gears every time they have to arrange a school-wide assembly because the drama department brought home _another_ trophy from state, but they’re still smarting from the team getting trampled in their own friggin’ home game? They're not making an example out of Eren, they’re making a scapegoat out of him.” His voice rises so much that it cracks, and he huffs out a sharp, irritated breath before glowering and saying coldly, “Congrats, this school will catch up to Sina Academy in no time. Who needs a state-of-the-art theater to be like the elites? All you really have to do is play favorites and pick on freshman because they’re easy targets. Who really gives a shit about them, am I right?”

Levi knows that he’s being needlessly cruel when he sees Shadis’ lips thin in quiet disappointment. But it’s hard to care that he might be hurting people with his words, not when he hasn’t felt this own familiar hurt since he was fourteen and being told that he was getting expelled from what he’d once thought was a dream school. Fourteen and being dealt a blow so harsh that he hadn’t even really begun to recover from it until this year, when he’d met a stupid little freshman with bright green eyes and a ridiculously idealistic attitude that struck a chord with him because it was _so_ familiar.

 _‘Fuck.’_ Rather than let everyone see how affected he is, Levi pushes himself up off the floor and grabs his bag before stalking out of the gym. He turns the corner as soon as he’s out of the breezeway and tosses his bag on the ground, pressing his back against the wall and sliding down. He draws his knees up and drapes his arms over them, bowing his head and trying to breathe through the red mist that’s clouding his vision. _‘Fuck.’_

Maybe a minute goes by before he hears heavy footsteps approaching, and he doesn’t look up when they round the corner and stop right in front of him. The silence stretches uncomfortably.

“You were a really angry kid when you first got here.”

“You had hair when I first got here.”

Shadis doesn’t say anything to the flippant jibe. He studies Levi for a moment before he says, “If you think I didn’t know all the details of what happened at Sina, you’re wrong.”

“So?”

“So the theater grapevine is far-reaching,” Shadis replies simply. “I knew what was going on at Sina. Same old shit that Director Zackley always pulls. That’s a toxic program he runs over there, always relying on the favorites over potential. Until the favorites graduate and he’s got no choice but to whip whatever’s left into shape. And the cycle repeats.”

He gives it another moment, but when Levi still doesn’t look up, he continues, “I remember being surprised when I heard from your mother that he put you in a lead. Thought maybe he was finally shaping things up. I remember wishing I could have been surprised when I heard what happened in the end, though. It’s a damn shame.”

“As fascinating as this story is,” Levi mutters thickly, “is there a point to it?”

“I would never drop Eren from the show,” Shadis asserts, watching him closely. Levi stops breathing for a moment. “Eren Jaeger is a talented actor, and no one can play Penny better than him. That’s why I cast him. That’s why I cast anyone in any role. If you understand the character, you get the role; that’s a rule I live by with this program. And you’re all a bunch of insufferable little shits, but you’re my insufferable little shits, and I’ll fight tooth and nail before I bow down to the higher ups and drop any one of you from a show.”

Sternly, Shadis says, “Freshman or senior, it doesn’t matter. Once you’re a part of the Shiganshina High Theater Program, it would take a hell of a lot more than some bitter old windbags to take you out. Mr. Z wouldn’t let it happen, Ms. Brzenska wouldn’t let it happen, Pixis wouldn’t let it happen, Ms. Nanaba wouldn’t let it happen, and I wouldn’t let it happen. That goes for everyone.” A beat, and then, more quietly, “This isn’t Sina Academy.”

There’s another pause, and the only thing that breaks the silence is the brief, choked breath that Levi takes. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knows that. And now he feels more than a little guilty for being so harsh earlier, which is a feeling he’s unaccustomed to. Instead of apologizing, though, all he manages to get out is a strained, “That’s good, then.”

Infusing his voice with some semblance of gentleness is a bit too much for Shadis to handle, so he barks out a brusque, “We’re not getting any work done tonight without Penny. Special practice on Monday; get here immediately after school and we’ll pick up where we left off and go until nine. Bring money for dinner.” His tone is marginally softer when he says, “Go home and get some rest, Levi.”

Even after Shadis has gone back into the gym, Levi remains, sitting against the wall with his head still bowed. When he hears the students inside shuffling around and getting ready to leave, he forces himself to look blank. He hasn’t gotten this upset in what feels like forever, and frankly, it’s exhausting. He doesn’t acknowledge the looks that people throw his way as they leave; it bothers him, but not to the point where he feels the need to say something. He’s too tired for more confrontation.

A familiar pair of shoes comes into view then, and Levi waits until all the other footsteps have faded away before he glances up and sees Erwin holding out a tissue. Petra and Hanji are standing behind him. “Fuck off with that; I’m not crying.”

“Your eyes are red,” is the gentle response.

“Smoked a blunt.”

“Levi.”

Levi fixes him with a sour look and shakes his head. “…I’m fine,” he says, almost weary. He glances off to the side just so he doesn’t have to see the worried look they all share, and that’s when he notices Armin and Mikasa, watching him. He cocks a brow and waits for one of them to speak.

They look at each other before Armin says, a bit hesitantly, “You’re a really nice guy.”

Levi scowls. “I’m not up for sentimental bullshit, kid.”

“Armin’s just trying to give you a compliment, you bag of dicks,” Mikasa says humorlessly. She’s wearing an odd expression, as if she’s waiting for Levi to rise to the bait like he always does. But he turns his gaze back to the floor instead of responding, and she frowns.

He hears Erwin softly ask everyone else to give them a moment, and then he feels Petra approach and lean down to give him a quick hug. “I’m gonna leave. Feel better, okay?” she whispers. When he doesn’t react, she grins impishly and adds, “Dr. Handsome.”

“You need to fucking go home, _Kim MacAfee_.”

She fakes an indignant huff and gives him a playful shove that he returns, lips quirking up slightly at the corners—leave it to Petra, he thinks. Always a rock-solid pillar of support.

Hanji decides to stay, plopping herself down right next to Levi and crossing her legs. She lets go of a long, heavy breath and says casually, “Well, that was intense.”

Levi’s only response is a snort. He blinks a couple of times, feeling like he’s spent the past couple of minutes at a sort of disconnect with his surroundings. He looks at Hanji, and then at Erwin, and he can tell that they’re waiting for him to say something.

It takes a few minutes, but they’re patient with him, and he finally manages to clear the clutter of emotions in him just enough to put his biggest issue with the night into words. “I forgot that assholes exist everywhere. Not just at Sina.”

“That’s life,” Erwin says in an agreeing tone.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just…” he trails off and stares up at his best friend with an almost confused look. He squints, searching for the words. “I was just really fucking _glad_ that that he—that Eren—wasn’t ending up with the same shitty experience that I had. You know? Like, he’s such a stupid little piece of shit, he’s so fucking annoying that I slammed him against a locker during auditions because he wouldn’t shut up. God. He’s so fucking talented, though. When in the hell have I ever met anyone else with such a ‘go hard or go die’ attitude about theater? Really? I didn’t even know I could meet someone like that. He’s just—fucking great. And he earned that part, he worked hard for that part, and I don’t even have a clue what happened Tuesday night, but—why? To him, why? It’s bullshit. Ugh. Fuck.”

When he cuts off his rambling with an exasperated, stuttering breath, Erwin holds out the tissue again, and this time he takes it.

“I heard some of what happened,” Hanji offers. “Crew works way down at the other end of the hall, but we heard the shouting. And Mr. Z went out to go check, and then we heard _him_ shouting, and he never does that, so we were wondering what was happening. I looked out and saw the JV team standing around three guys. Two of them were football players and then I realized one of them was Eren, so I told Mikasa and then she ran out. She knocked one boy off of Eren and Mr. Z pulled Eren off of the other one.

“I think he said something to Eren,” Hanji murmurs thoughtfully, pushing her glasses up her nose. “He was screaming, ‘Take it back.’ That’s all I could make out. But I didn’t want to ask Mikasa what happened; she’s really upset about the whole thing, and I thought asking about it would make it worse.”

“She has every right to be upset,” Erwin adds. “Reiner told me that the boys on the football team weren’t suspended. They have detention for the rest of the week.” His gaze turns cold, and there’s anger simmering in his tone when he says, “They started the fight. But—”

“—But it’s their word against Eren’s,” Levi finishes, sounding more than a little bitter. “And if Mr. Z had to _pull_ Eren off of one of those little shitstains…” he trails off, not needing to finish the sentence. They all understand that it wouldn’t have been difficult to pin everything on Eren.

They all stay there for a little while longer, Hanji consolingly patting Levi on the knee and Erwin standing in front of him, arms folded and watching him like a concerned parent would watch a child. Eventually, he says, “The administrators aren’t going to win this one. Not with the laundry list of reasons that we just gave the adults about why removing Eren from the show would be a colossal mistake. Plus, the backlash from a decision like that would be outstanding.” He reaches out and claps a comforting hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Levi. It’ll be fine.”

Levi makes a sound that sounds dangerously close to a sniffle, and he grimaces. “Alright, _mom._ ”

Erwin chuckles. “Sarcasm, that’s a good sign.”

Levi grudgingly allows Erwin and Hanji to grab him by the arms and tug him to his feet, groaning as they do. “I’m not that heavy,” he snaps.

“Levi, no, you weigh so much for someone so…”

“…Finish that sentence, Hanji. Go ahead.”

“Oh, wow, look at my wrist, I’ve gotta go.”

“You’re wearing a watch, you fucking nerd!” Levi calls after her, but she’s already darting down the hall, laughing and throwing a wave over her shoulder. He rolls his eyes but feels a little bit better at the stupid joke. He picks his backpack up off the floor, giving it a cursory dust off before he glances up at Erwin. He frowns and holds out the tissue. “Here.”

“Absolutely not.”

Levi smirks at the ruffled look on his face and tosses the tissue into a nearby trashcan. “Whatever, let’s go home.”

Erwin shakes his head and offers an apologetic smile. “Actually, I think I’ll stick around for a little while longer. Ms. Brzenska said I could use the music room to practice some songs. Might as well make use of my time.”

“Do you ever stop working?”

“A hero’s job is never over,” he says bombastically.

“You’re disgusting,” Levi grouses, but he brings a hand up to cover the laugh threatening to escape him. He hesitates in leaving for an awkward moment before saying seriously, “Thanks.”

Erwin’s smile widens; he understands what Levi is thanking him for, even if the latter doesn’t elaborate. “What are friends for?” he responds with a casual shrug.

Levi’s stare suddenly turns intimidating. “Keeping quiet about other friends needing tissues on pain of death.”

Erwin laughs at him but gives him a conspiratorial wink, tapping the side of his nose with his index finger. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Levi rolls his eyes but doesn’t doubt him; Erwin is a trustworthy friend who would never go back on his word. He waves goodbye and heads down the hall for the doors that lead out to the student parking lot, fully intending on just heading home and attempting to de-stress. He’s not in the mood for doing his homework—he’s not in the mood for being awake, really, but just when he’s decided that he’ll be going straight to bed, he rounds the corner and sees Mikasa sitting on the floor by the doors. She glances up when she hears him coming, and he frowns at her. “Why are you still here?”

She gets to her feet and stares at him. “You should come over and see Eren.”

Levi blinks. Mikasa Ackerman inviting him to her house is yet another event to add to the growing list of things he certainly didn’t expect to happen today. But now that she’s said it, suddenly, seeing Eren is all he wants to do. Instead of letting on about how he feels, though, he glances around and asks, “Where’s the little guy?”

This earns the faintest of smiles from Mikasa. “I made him go home; he has a Chemistry lab to write up. He didn’t do it yesterday because he was with Eren all afternoon.”

This seems like the perfect opportunity for him to ask the question that’s been on his mind since he walked into what was supposed to be rehearsal and hadn’t spotted a familiar pair of big, bright eyes. “What happened to Eren?”

Mikasa bobs her head a couple of times and sucks in a breath between her teeth. Eventually, she says, “Ordinarily, I would say that it’s not my place to tell you. But I don’t think Eren would tell you the entire truth, so—”

“Why not?”

She frowns at him for cutting her off before she shrugs and hitches her bag up over her shoulder. “Because he’s an idiot and he doesn’t want you to be ashamed of him. Something stupid like that.”

“I’m not going to be _ashamed_ of the stupid little fuck,” Levi says incredulously.

Mikasa scoffs and says, “I know, that’s what I told him, but whatever. My baby brother just doesn’t have a clue.”

“Is that why he didn’t answer any of my texts?”

Mikasa looks confused for a moment before her eyes widen in realization and she shakes her head. “Oh, no, his phone got broken during the fight.” At Levi’s quizzical look, she sighs and nods toward the door then. “Come on. Walk with me, talk with me.”

“Basically, what happened the other night,” she begins when they’re walking on the path to the parking lot. It’s not even seven yet, but the sun is sinking in the distance, and the blue hue of dusk is slowly reaching across the sky. “I don’t know what you heard or haven’t heard—”

“Hanji said that Mr. Z had to pull Eren off a football player.”

Mikasa huffs and nods. “Right. Well, from what Eren told me later, the whole thing started because he was walking past the football hall right when the JV team was coming in from their practice. And one of them—I don’t know, he’s got blonde hair and looks like he failed a grade twice, but I forgot his name—”

“I can find out from Reiner.”

Mikasa cuts her eyes at him. “…Are you mad at him?”

Levi blinks in surprise. “What, at Reiner? No, why the fuck would I be mad at him? He didn’t do anything.”

“He feels guilty because he’d been talking about the show to the two football players who started the fight. Blondie was the one who asked him about it, and he thought that they were finally showing actual interest, so he told them all about the plot, and who got cast as who.” Mikasa glowers darkly at the ground. “He mentioned that they were particularly _interested_ in Eren being cast in ‘a girl’s role’, but they pretended that they thought a freshman being cast in a lead was cool, and it was enough to fool Reiner.”

They stop in front of Levi’s car, which is the nearest to the parking lot entrance, and Mikasa fiddles with her necklace while Levi waits for her to continue. She finally glances at him and admits, “ _I’m_ a little mad at Reiner.” She watches him like she’s expecting harsh judgment for that, and when she doesn’t receive any, she stops her fidgeting; when her hand drops away from the necklace, Levi spots the faint bruising on her knuckles for the first time. “Like, I know he didn’t mean for anything to happen to Eren. That’s not what I’m saying. But I feel like he just should have known that something wasn’t right. When have the other football players ever been interested in seeing any of our shows for something other than earning extra credit for English? When have they ever asked about us for a reason other than to make fun of us?

She balls her hands into fists and growls, “I’m just pissed. I’m just pissed and I need somewhere to put my anger, and since I can’t target those two jackasses, I just—I don’t know. I’ll get over it.”

“It’s fine to be mad,” Levi says simply, because it is. He can relate. He shrugs. “Just stay clear of Reiner until you feel better about it. The last thing everyone needs right now is conflict within the program.”

Mikasa nods and runs a hand through her hair. Then she smirks and scoffs, “Wow. Never thought I’d be getting advice on avoiding conflict from you of all people.”

He gives her an amused look for a moment before shaking his head and returning to seriousness. “Okay, now tell me what happened.”

Mikasa blows out a loud sigh and throws her hands up. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, Blondie recognized Eren right away when he saw him walking past the hall. And he said, really loud—” The words are difficult for Mikasa to force out. “—he said, ‘Look, there’s the little faggot.’”

Levi stiffens. He feels like his blood could both freeze and start boiling, and he grinds his teeth against the unpleasantness rising in him. He sees an equally dark expression on Mikasa’s face and prompts, “And what did Eren do?”

Mikasa’s face twists into a cross of bitterness and amusement. “What do you _think_ Eren did? He turned around and called them out. And they thought it was funny, so they kept taking shots at him, but for _once_ in his life, if you can believe it, he was actually going to walk away, but—” She cuts herself off with another, shakier breath, and Levi feels mild panic at how upset she looks now, but he doesn’t risk opening his mouth for once. Mikasa composes herself quickly enough and draws up one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know exactly what they said—Eren wouldn’t tell me, but it was something about you.”

Levi’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Me,” he says flatly, honestly so surprised that he’s not even able to put any inflection into his voice.

Mikasa nods. “Yeah. And Eren—Eren’s always had this inability to stay out of things when it’s about someone close to him. Like, you can say whatever you want about him, and he can brush it off most times, but…” Another shrug. “The idiot threw his bag at the guy. That’s how his phone broke; it flew out of the side pocket and hit the wall so hard it cracked.”

“… Wow.”

“Yeah, I know, but it made Blondie look away long enough for him not to see the punch coming at him. And Eren got him on the ground, screaming his lungs out and stuff. And then Blondie’s friend jumped in and started wailing on him, but Eren wasn’t budging.” She stares down at her faintly injured knuckles and says, “When Hanji told me Eren was fighting with someone, I ran out and hit Blondie’s friend as hard as I could. That got him off Eren.”

“You have a mean right hook,” Levi says seriously.

Mikasa stares at him almost disbelievingly. “… Thanks. Anyway. Mr. Z finally pulled Eren off of the other guy, and that’s what went down.” They stand around a little while longer, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them before Mikasa snorts and says, “Okay, let’s just go so I can make sure Eren hasn’t driven Mom crazy yet. He was practically climbing the walls yesterday with nothing to do. Just follow my car out of the lot.”

A little while later, Levi is stepping out of the brisk night air and into the warmth of the Jaeger household as Mikasa shuts the door and calls, “Mom, I’m home.”

“Mikasa? Where’ve you been? I got a call a half hour ago from Director Shadis—” Mrs. Jaeger pokes her head out of the kitchen and stops short when she spots Levi. Then she beams, and Levi suddenly finds himself receiving his second hug of the day.

Mikasa laughs at him when he shoots her an alarmed look, and she says, “Wow, Mom. Hug him but not your daughter. I see how it is.”

Mrs. Jaeger chuckles and reaches out to envelop Mikasa in the hug. Levi can’t deal with that; he grimaces and squirms away, Mikasa doing the exact same thing as she hisses, “Ew, gross.”

“Back at you.”

“You two,” Mrs. Jaeger begins, placing a hand over her mouth to suppress her laughter. “You are both wonderful. I was just saying, I got a call from Director Shadis.” She gives them another radiant smile and announces, “Eren’s staying in the show. Because you—” She points at Levi. “—said you would quit if Eren was dropped, and he told me that losing two leads would make it impossible to put on a show. And _you_ —” She reaches out and grabs her daughter in another crushing hug; Mikasa grunts in protest. “—raised an excellent point about how unfairly the football team's responsibility is being handled. He didn’t tell me any details, but Director Shadis says they’re looking to change something about the punishment those two boys received.”

Levi stands around and doesn’t quite meet her eyes; he feels a little awkward, actually. The only people who’d ever looked at him with such a proud smile have been his own parents, so receiving it from someone else’s is a foreign—but not entirely unwelcome—feeling.

He turns down an invitation for some food—the evening’s events have left him with little appetite. All he really wants is to see Eren, and Mrs. Jaeger gives him a smile that seems more than a little knowing when she gestures to the stairs and says that Eren’s in his room.

The door is slightly ajar, so Levi knocks a couple of times before pushing it open; Eren is laying on his bed, scribbling something in the margins of his script, and he looks up when Levi enters and shuts the door behind him.

“Oh, wow, that’s what you get for getting into a fight. You dumb shit.”

The pleased smile that’s spreading on Eren’s face freezes. “Thanks,” he replies sardonically, but he obligingly sits up and makes room for Levi to sit next to him on the bed.

Levi frowns as he studies Eren’s face; the skin around Eren’s left eye is mottled and puffy with bruising, and there’s a cut on his bottom lip that’s barely scabbed over. “Is it as bad as it looks?” he asks, reaching out to delicately poke at his cheek.

“You should see the other guy,” Eren quips. He winces at the touch, though, a sharp breath hissing through his teeth.

Levi drops his hand away from Eren’s face but watches him intently. He realizes that this is the first time he’s seen Eren since Tuesday night, and even though it’s been two days, he’d actually missed the little shit. He’s not sure how that makes him feel; all he does know is that seeing Eren is a sort of relief for him. They’re both silent for a few moments before Levi raises a brow and says, “So. You’re not out of the show.”

Eren gives him a shy grin. “Yeah. I heard.” A pause, and then, hesitantly, “I also heard that you threatened to quit if they kicked me out.” When Levi doesn’t respond, Eren asks, “Did you mean that?”

Levi huffs and flops back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head and answering honestly, “I don’t know. Maybe?” He gives it some thought and then says, “I think I did. I don’t really want to work with anyone but you. That sounds pretty selfish, but I don’t really care. You’re the best match for me, and if they tried replacing you, anything else would feel like a shitty imitation. Acting… isn’t really fun if you’re not working with the right people, anyway.” He glances up and sees that Eren is blushing furiously. “…What?”

“That’s just—” Eren cuts himself off with a shrug before glancing away, looking embarrassed. “That’s… a really nice thing for you to say. And I… That’s—yeah. Thank you.”

Levi is about to smirk and tease him for being sappy, but he pauses when Eren takes a quiet breath and says softly, “I was really afraid that they were going to kick me out.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Levi murmurs.

Eren hesitates for a moment before asking, “You know… everything? Like, what happened?”

“Yeah. Except for what you wouldn’t tell Mikasa.” When Eren looks at him, wide-eyed and almost worried, Levi adds, “You don’t need to tell me what they said about me. I don’t care what a bunch of stupid shits say; chances are, I’ve heard worse. I’ve probably said worse myself.”

Eren scratches the back of his head and gives a half-hearted little shrug. “I just… It made me really mad. I get mad easily, when people say things about other things that are important to me. Or people that are important to me. And I just—I don’t know.” In a pained voice, Eren admits, “I was really afraid. More about the show than the suspension, and yeah, I know that’s dumb, but… I thought I’d fucked up everything about what I wanted to do in life. Like, if I got dropped from this show, could I audition for the next one? Would they even cast me if I did? What if I didn’t do another show for the rest of high school; how could I apply to a performing arts university? Who would take me?”

His voice grows increasingly distressed, and Eren sniffs loudly and asks in an impossibly small voice, “Is this how you felt?”

In a single swift motion, Levi pushes himself up and swings a leg over Eren’s lap, straddling him and laying his hands on Eren’s face, mindful of the bruising. “Hey.”

It takes a moment, but when Eren finally looks at him, his eyes are big and bright with unshed tears. Levi shakes his head and tells him, “Don’t cry, you fucking loser. You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re all in the show and we’re fine.”

“I’m not crying,” Eren grumbles, but his lip quivers and he looks down again with another thick sniff. Normally, Levi doesn’t have the patience to deal with anybody crying—it’s just not pleasant—but he doesn’t entirely mind waiting for Eren to compose himself, so he rests his chin on the crown of Eren’s bowed head and gives him a moment. He doesn’t say anything when Eren slowly brings his arms up to wrap around his waist; the touch feels nice.

After a few minutes, Eren seems to have cheered up some, because he shifts and nuzzles the side of his face into the crook of Levi’s neck, which makes him chuckle. “Alright now?”

“Yeah,” is the distracted mumble, and Levi nods and is about to pull back when Eren lays a deliberate, soft kiss on the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Levi stops. Eren, however, doesn’t; he trails delicate kisses higher and higher until he lays a bold lick across the skin, ending with a teasing little suck just below his jaw that draws a sharp, pleased sound from Levi. “Eren?”

“Mm?”

It’s surprisingly difficult for him to form words, but Levi manages. “What are you doing?”

He feels more than sees Eren’s face warming, and the latter pulls back—yep, there’s the blush—and stutters out an apology. “I just wanted to,” he offers lamely, wincing. “Sorry.”

Levi frowns and nudges Eren’s chin up with the pad of his thumb. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he says, voice a little rough. He makes a point of staring at Eren’s lips, privately enjoying the way that Eren’s face manages to get even redder—all the boldness has gone out of him now, and Levi wonders why he thinks that’s so endearing. He hums a little note and says, “I want to kiss you.”

Eren smiles. “Okay.”

Levi raises a thin brow and says seriously, “If you think I’m touching that gross thing on your lip, though, you’ve got another think coming.”

Eren’s face falls. “Oh,” is all he says.

Levi rolls his eyes and slowly smirks when an idea forms in the back of his head. _‘Payback for Tuesday,’_ he thinks, remembering the way Eren had pressed him against the lockers. It’s that memory, and the lazy heat curling in the pit of his stomach that prompts him to push his thumb against Eren’s chin, urging his mouth open as he murmurs, without thinking about it, “Stick out your tongue.”

All that comes out of Eren is a squeak and a slightly breathless, “Huh?”

Levi fixes him with a piercing stare, partly to mask his own embarrassment at what he’s just said. But he doesn’t back down. “Did I stutter?” he says, voice low. His eyes glitter with interest when a faint shiver runs through Eren, and it gives him a boost of confidence that he hadn’t known he needed to repeat, “Stick out your tongue.”

Levi has a brief flash of memory in his mind of the afternoon he’d driven Eren home from their first mandatory cast meeting—the deep blush that had bloomed across Eren’s cheeks when he’d shown the kid his tongue piercing had replayed itself in his mind for hours after that. Now, with Eren’s eyes boring into his almost challengingly as he obeys Levi and sticks out his tongue, Levi understands why he’d reacted that way; his own reaction is visceral, dick hardening so fast that it practically leaves him a little lightheaded.

He lets go of a slow breath just as he leans in to slide his tongue against Eren’s, and he is aware of two things. One, Eren’s hands are slipping down to grip his hips, thumbs pushing under his shirt and sliding against the jut of his hipbones in a way that earns a faintly pleased noise from the back of his throat. Two, Eren is hard.

 _Really_ hard.

The realization that Eren is just as turned on by this sends another jolt of arousal straight to his dick, and Levi moans and rolls his hips once, long and slow. Eren gasps and lets go of a sharp whine before his grip tightens, and he holds Levi in place as he bucks up into the sensation, the pleasurable friction drawing soft sounds of approval from both of them.

Still, Levi is coherent enough to want to be sure, so he draws back and asks, “Are you okay with—”

“Yeah," he cuts him off shakily, nodding. "It— _ah—_ feels good,” Eren moans, face flushed and pupils fat as he gives Levi a pleading look before tugging him back in for another sloppy kiss.

Levi grunts and grabs a fistful of his hair, not even caring about the cut on the other boy’s lip anymore—in fact, he’s so far from caring that he gives it a soothing lick that draws another needy groan from Eren, which prompts Levi to draw back and whisper, “Unless you want your parents to hear you…”

“Yeah, yeah,” is the impatient response, and then Eren’s grinning smugly when one of his hands slides down to Levi’s ass and gives it a possessive squeeze. At Levi’s sharp moan, Eren murmurs tauntingly, “Be quiet.”

Levi growls and jerks him in for another kiss, and then there’s no more talking, just exploring hands that grow bolder with each muffled moan or soft gasp and hips moving in a frantic rhythm that’s almost too much for Levi to handle, but he manages until Eren stiffens and snaps his hips up one last time with a stuttering breath and a high-pitched, “Oh, _fuck_.”

That does it for Levi, and he’s coming in his pants with a heavy, wordless groan, lazily grinding back down on Eren as his mind goes pleasantly blank.

They sit like that for a little while, breathing heavily as their heart rates return to normal. Eventually, Levi pulls back and huffs, “Okay. I seriously need to use your bathroom; this feels gross.”

Eren snorts back a laugh and grins at him. “Down the hall and to the left.”

After they’ve both cleaned up—though Levi still grimaces faintly every time he moves and feels the stickiness—they lay on Eren’s bed, relaxing. “I feel tired now,” Eren mumbles with a lazy smile.

Levi rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree; half of his mind still feels like it’s floating on the haze of that excellent orgasm, and he stretches with a groan and says, “Not bad for the first time. Too bad it’s not Wednesday. Happy belated hump day, I guess.”

Eren muffles a snicker into the pillow and then glances over at Levi shyly. “That was my first time… doing anything like that.”

Levi shuffles closer, laying his head against Eren’s collarbone and enjoying his warmth; Eren is always warm, he’s noticed. It feels nice. “Same.”

“Really?”

Levi snorts. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve done that dumb shit where you play ‘Seven Minutes In Heaven’ in middle school at your first co-ed birthday party and stuff. Making out. Whatever.” His fingers idly trace invisible patterns over Eren’s arm. “But this is my first relationship. Like, an actual, acknowledged relationship. And you’re the first one I’ve done anything like that with. Other people, I’ve just never really been that interested in.”

“You just seemed like you knew what you were doing. When you told me to… you know,” he mutters, face warming.

Levi smirks. “Don’t go getting all shy on me. And, I’ll be honest with you, some of that was just coming from what I’ve seen in movies. And porn.”

“Oh my God,” Eren laughs, throwing an arm over his face.  When his amusement fades, he quietly asks, “Levi?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” When Levi pulls back to look at him, he shakes his head and says, “I don’t mean for… what just happened. I mean, that was nice. Really nice. I’m—”

“Oh my God, Eren.”

“Shut up!” he laughs, embarrassed. “I meant, thank you for what happened before. For sticking up for me.”

Levi stares at him and feels immense contentment welling up in the space behind his ribs. He takes Eren’s hand and links their fingers together, giving them a gentle squeeze that the other boy immediately returns. Levi lets a faint smile quirk up the corners of his lips as he responds with an almost fond, “Anytime.”

And then he smirks and adds, “You dumb shit.”

Eren just laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ran away with me a bit, as if the fact that it's nearly 7,000 words isn't enough for you to tell. Haha. I TOLD YOU TO HAVE FAITH. Also, donut expect quick updates like this often. It was the weekend (one of my last free weekends, really, heh) and I was super inspired, so. :3 Thank you for reading!


	10. Breeze It, Buzz It, Easy Does It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I don’t think this will crash and burn,’ he thinks. It’s strange, because he doesn’t usually think about their relationship in the long-term—he’s generally not the kind of person who thinks about anything past the day. But it’s not an unwelcome thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good God, this chapter gave me so much grief. UGH. But here it is, and I'm sorry for the wait. To (hopefully) make up for it, have some smut-ish things.  
> P.S. I listened to 'Hanging On' by Ellie Goulding (minus the rap part) while writing the first half of this song because hECK that is one sensual song. Nnng.

“I swear to God, Jaeger,” Levi pants. He muffles a soft groan into Eren’s shoulder and feels it shake with the other boy’s suppressed laughter. “If we get caught—”

“We won’t. Relax, we’ll hear anyone if they come home,” comes the interrupting whisper, and the cajoling tone makes him decide that Eren is having entirely too much fun with this, pinning him to the bed and rocking his body against him. Even fully-clothed as they are, Levi can feel the entire length of his erection through the fabric of his jeans, hot and hard as it rubs against his own; he tries to ignore the way that thinking about Eren’s dick makes his breath come shorter and clouds his mind with thoughts like ‘ _fuck yes_ ’ and yeah, _maybe_ he can feel his mouth watering, just a bit. He has to force himself to remember that he’s trying to be at least a little bit responsible right now.

Another soft moan catches in the back of his throat, and Levi bucks up against him at the same time as he hisses, “You’re gonna rub my dick raw if you don’t give it a rest.”

The statement doesn’t have its intended effect; Eren’s eyes dance with mischief as he mumbles, “I could kiss it and make it better.”

Levi groans as his cock surges at the mental image of Eren on his knees, soft lips wrapped around the head and eyes hazy with lust as they stare up at him through messy, brown bangs. He brings a hand up to cover that stupid mouth of his and almost pleads, “Don’t, you little shit. That’s not funny.”

He feels Eren grin, pressing his lips into Levi’s hand as his rhythm slows, and then Levi grunts and pulls away when his tongue darts out and licks his palm.

“That’s fucking gross, I don’t know where your mouth’s been,” he mutters, pinching the other boy’s flushed cheek. He feels his own face warming when Eren’s smile turns teasing.

“I know where it _could_ be—” His suggestive taunt is cut off when Levi snorts and gives up on being the mature one in favor of tugging him close for a demanding kiss.

They’re both still getting used to the mechanics of kissing each other; Levi’s noticed that Eren tends to let his enthusiasm run away with him at times, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Levi would be lying if he said he hadn’t often wondered whether Eren’s passionate nature carried over into _other_ areas. Now, feeling Eren’s fingers running through his hair and mouth roughly dominating his own, he concludes that yes, it most definitely does.

“You really need to stop making jokes like that,” Levi mutters breathlessly, failing to suppress a delighted shiver when Eren licks a warm, wet path down the side of his neck.

“What if I’m not joking?”

Levi’s hands find their way onto Eren’s shoulders—strong and broad, ‘ _Sexy as fuck,’_ he thinks—and he allows himself a moment of indulgence just to stroke the unexpectedly defined muscles before lightly pushing at them. Eren backs off, sitting up on his knees and blinking down in confusion at Levi, who suddenly finds himself trying not to laugh. How Eren manages to look adorably puzzled with such a noticeable erection tenting his pants is beyond him, but the juxtaposition is comical.

Eyes narrowing just enough to show that he’s being serious, Levi smirks at him and says dryly, “I think these things need working up to, don’t you?”

Eren blushes then, averting his eyes and giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I want to, though.”

Levi raises a condescending brow, piercings glinting in the fading afternoon light shining through the window, and murmurs, “Oh really?” Purposefully, he reaches down and snaps open the first button on his jeans. The way that Eren’s eyes zero in on his crotch and widen nervously makes him snort, his point made. “Wanting to do something and being ready to do something are two different things, genius.”

“I know that,” Eren mutters almost petulantly. He looks a little self-conscious when he continues, “I just… I like being able to make you feel good. I like knowing I can do something right.”

The sincere admission has Levi’s gaze softening with something approaching affection, and it colors his tone when he murmurs, “Friggin’ idiot.”

Eren blinks, brows furrowing in confusion. And then Levi is sitting up and pushing Eren back to lie down so he can straddle him, enjoying the sharply drawn breath that cuts through the silence when he firmly grinds down on Eren’s cock. Levi snaps his fingers in front of the brunette’s face to get his attention.

“I’m only going to say this once, but you should appreciate that I’m even saying this at all,” Levi tells him, his tone matter-of-fact. “You do plenty of things right. And this,” he continues, punctuating the words with another languid roll of his hips, “is not about doing things ‘right.’ The hell does that even mean anyway? It’s not like either of us is an expert at this kind of thing.”

“What?” Eren whispers with a sly smile, fingers trailing up Levi’s shirt, stealing over the warm skin of his stomach before coming to settle on his hips. “You mean you don’t know everything?” The words come out huskily as he guides Levi into a good rhythm, and the latter smirks smugly at the appreciative moan that tears from his throat.

“Shut up,” he murmurs, watching Eren’s eyes screw shut and his brow furrow as he bites at his lower lip and tries not to be too loud.

Levi chokes back his own moan, dick throbbing at the sight and almost not minding that Eren’s having most of the fun, grinding against his ass in slow, powerful strokes the way he is. God, does he love how passionate the little shit is, and even now in territory that’s relatively unfamiliar for both of them, Eren’s moments of hesitancy are always surprisingly few and far between, often coming on the heels of an action rather than before. He’s not big on thinking things through, and he’s not shy about letting Levi know what he likes, what feels good.

That’s just the way he is, though. From the moment they’d met, Eren’s impulsiveness hadn’t exactly been a big secret. And even though he’s younger, Levi sometimes feels like Eren is the one who is more self-assured—or at least, he’s so headstrong that sometimes it comes off that way. Levi is the one who can mask any insecurities he has, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t analyze actions before he even takes them.

With Eren, though, he’s not so reticent about covering up his vulnerabilities, just like he doesn’t entirely mind the times when Eren physically controls these kinds of situations. The comfort of this—the knowledge that he can be himself and someone actually likes that—is what prompts Levi to grab his wrist and wait for Eren’s eyes to focus on his through a haze of lust before he moans, “Touch me.”

He’s not expecting the way that Eren’s eyes darken and his lips curl up in a wicked smirk—an expression he’s never worn before. He’s also not expecting the steady hand that moves to snap open the second button on his jeans before tugging down the zipper and palming his cock through his boxers. The action startles a loud gasp from Levi, and he jerks into the touch.

“You didn’t have to do it like _that_ ,” he says, shooting Eren an accusing look when he laughs softly.

“I want to. I want to actually feel you,” comes the brazen reply, accompanied by a firm squeeze to the base of his cock that has Levi throwing his head back with a throaty groan.

He blinks when Eren lets out a faint whimper in response, cock swelling against his ass. The rush of confidence that surges through him is practically depraved, but it encourages him to meet Eren’s flustered gaze and raise a taunting brow. “Yeah?” he chuckles, hips undulating, bearing down on Eren in a way that pulls another soft whine from him.

“Do you like it when I’m loud?” Levi murmurs, partially because he’s actually curious and partially because he just wants to see Eren’s blush deepen, eyes rolling back in his head and the fingers of his free hand digging into Levi’s hip as he bucks up against him.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, breathless. His eyes open again, wild and unfocused, and then he bites his lip and flicks his gaze down.

That’s all the warning that Levi gets before Eren’s hand is fumbling, groping past the opening of his boxers to wrap around the base of his cock. Levi’s mouth drops open, but the only sound that comes out is a gasping breath. He can’t think, can barely even focus the energy to keen, “Oh fuck… _oh—_ ”

“Gonna come?” Eren asks shakily, hips and hand never faltering in their rhythm.

Levi gives him a jerky nod in response, not even caring that it should be somewhat embarrassing that he’s getting so close so quick; he can’t help it. It’s the first time anyone besides himself has touched him—really _touched_ him—and Eren is relentless, pumping his cock with powerful, almost frantic strokes that leave him reeling, the pleasure building, coiling in the pit of his stomach until it snaps taut and rips a startlingly loud cry from him right before he comes hard into Eren’s hand.

Dimly, he’s aware of Eren’s answering whine, feels him stiffening and arching against him as he comes too, and Levi moans softly and slumps down to the side. Eren’s hand falls away and they both sprawl on the bed, out of breath and feeling gratifyingly boneless.

They turn their heads and glance at each other, and Eren’s eyes are slightly unfocused when he whispers, “That was nice.”

“You have no self-control.”

“Yeah, but it was nice.”

Levi snorts, mouth twitching as he struggles to repress a grin at how dazed Eren sounds. It doesn’t work, though, because he feels fucking _great_ , and everything is suddenly twice as funny. Eren starts to giggle and very nearly brings his hand—the messy hand—up to cover his mouth before he yelps in realization; his face reddens in embarrassment when Levi lets out a giant snort and actually howls with laughter, one hand slapping at the bedcovers and the other cupping his mouth but doing absolutely nothing to muffle the sound.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Eren grumbles later, when they’ve both cleaned up. He’s laying obediently still with his head in Levi’s lap as the latter absentmindedly combs gentle fingers through his hair, enjoying the quiet calm of the lazy Saturday afternoon. Faint music filters through the speakers of the iPod dock perched on Eren’s desk; Levi had insisted on background noise.

Levi quirks a thin brow at him, and he lets his mouth slant up in an entertained half-smile and flicks Eren’s forehead. “Shut up, you fucking dork. That was hilarious.”

“You shut up,” Eren shoots back, but he’s smiling dopily at him, looking the furthest thing from annoyed. A moment goes by. “You have a really nice laugh.”

Levi pauses for a second, giving Eren a considering look. “Thanks,” he says after a moment, his tone careful. Now that the practically incandescent passion—and really, that had been as unexpected as it had been impressive—that had been powering their actions has faded, Levi feels his mind working, turning possibilities over. His behavior, he knows, could go more than one way. He’s seen enough teenage relationships crash and burn to be aware of the fact that a misplaced sense of obligation can follow intimacy. In this warm space where he’s free to think, Levi runs through all the instances he’s seen people in relationships fit themselves to a label, rather than acknowledge that the label is there and refuse to let it become what defines them.

He lets the negative possibilities build up and then shuts them away with a barely perceptible shake of his head before he glances back down. Eren’s eyes have slipped shut, and Levi smiles faintly and unashamedly uses the opportunity to enjoy the view. His grand-mère had always had always pointed out beautiful things when she’d visited, whether it was a landscape or a person, and she’d definitely passed on the appreciation for beauty to him.

Eren is a beautiful person, though he won’t tell him that. Maybe not in those words. The only detractor of that, though is the black eye in its healing stages, no longer swollen but still discolored. Levi reaches out and prods the skin with his forefinger, and when Eren’s eyes flutter open, fixing him with a warm, sleepy gaze, Levi welcomes the now-familiar affection that wells up in his chest.

 _‘I don’t think this will crash and burn,’_ he thinks. It’s strange, because he doesn’t usually think about their relationship in the long-term—he’s generally not the kind of person who thinks about anything past the day. But it’s not an unwelcome thought.

“Still bad?” Eren asks, and Levi realizes that he’s been idly tracing the bruise.

“Fucking gross,” he answers bluntly, smirking when Eren rolls his eyes at him. He huffs a little laugh and flips a lock of Eren’s hair out of the way. “It’s getting kind of long,” he comments, running his fingers through the soft strands.

Eren nods, leaning into the touch. “Shadis told me to grow it for the show.”

Levi studies him, trying to picture it. “How much?”

“Like—” Eren brings a hand up to hint at a length that will fall just barely to his shoulders. “—that much would be ideal, he said.”

His brows raise, and there’s an interested glitter in his eyes. “… Not bad.” The corner of his mouth quirks up when Eren snorts and rolls his eyes. “What? Long hair is hot. I would have long hair if it worked for me.”

“Wow. I don’t think I can imagine you with long hair,” Eren says, sitting up. He reaches out and runs the pads of his fingers against the neatly trimmed undercut.

“Oh God, it’s really fucking bad. I already look a lot younger than I am—pair that with long hair and I look like a goddamn pubescent Jonas Brother. No thanks,” Levi snarks, flopping back on the bed and taking Eren with him. He’s in a cuddly mood—maybe it’s the tone the music sets, but he doesn’t know or care to think about it—so he lets Eren wrap his arms around him and practically pet him, one hand trailing from the back of his head to his neck and then shoulder while the other settles on his hip and traces circular patterns on his skin.

Eren is a touchy person, and Levi’s getting acclimated to that; it feels good, and not in a sexual way—though any time Eren touches him now, there’s always a muted heat that curls in the base of his stomach and makes him hyperaware of every sensation against his skin—but in a way that slows his heart rate rather than speeds it, and makes him feel calm.

“Feels nice,” Levi mumbles aloud, voice a little drowsy. The rest of the afternoon light has faded, and the room is dark. He feels Eren nod, chin bumping against the crown of his head, and then he feels Eren’s chest vibrate with soft laughter.

“The music,” he says by way of explanation, and Levi listens and recognizes the opening strains of ‘Penny’s Song.’

“You ready for that on Monday?” he asks.

Eren nods again and answers, “Yeah.” His fingers gently tap out the rhythm on Levi’s hip.

“You should be,” Levi says with a smirk. “Your big number.” He frowns and murmurs thoughtfully, “It’s weird. I remember that you had to sing it at auditions, but I don’t really _remember_ it.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Eren says agreeably. “It was almost a month ago. That’s weird. To think that a month ago, I wasn’t in a show. A month ago, I didn’t know you. Seems like a lot longer.”

They lapse back into silence, Levi listening to the mellow tune and trying to recall how Eren’s voice had sounded way back when he’d last sung it. When he can’t, he looks up at Eren and says, “You should sing it.”

Eren blinks. “What, right now?”

“Yeah.”

Eren’s gaze wavers before it moves away, and Levi watches with amusement as two spots of color appear high on his cheeks. “I think I’ll wait ‘til Monday.”

“Oh?” he drawls, biting back a smirk. Eren’s moments of shyness are as adorable as they are rare.

Eren shrugs, and the corners of his lips twitch up into a faintly sheepish smile. “I just—it’s different singing in front of people alone. Like, when it’s not for show purposes or anything,” he admits.

Levi stares at him, one thin brow slowly rising. He doesn’t really understand being shy; it’s a feeling that hasn’t pertained to him for a long while, not since he realized it worked out better for him in the long run if he didn’t let himself be affected by what others might think of him or his actions. _‘You do what you love, and fuck the rest,’_ he thinks, a quote from one of his favorite movies.

It occurs to him then that while he might have an extreme degree of self-possession, especially for a teenager, Eren is not the same. “Scared?” he asks, actually making an effort to not sound snide.

Eren glances at him. “Something like that, but—”

“No big deal,” Levi cuts him off, wiggling against Eren to get into a more comfortable position, but also because he feels like diverting from the seriousness is probably a good idea. He wants to process this information. Eren actually has something that he’s reserved about—singing just to sing. Levi turns this over in his mind, examining it from every angle, and honest curiosity prompts him to keep questioning. “Do you just feel more comfortable singing if you know it’s not actually you singing?”

Eren smiles, and there’s a touch of relief in the expression. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Levi snorts. “Don’t sound so surprised. I understand.”

“No, I know! I just—” Eren’s fingers briefly tighten on the material of his shirt. “I sometimes forget that I’m around people who actually _get_ what I’m talking about, you know? I didn’t have much of that in middle school; theater wasn’t a serious thing then. Not for everyone else.”

Levi nods. “I know what you mean. I was the worst little shit in middle school about theater, and it’s difficult when theater is practically like, your whole fucking purpose in life and nobody else feels that way. Even the director was annoyed with me. I took it way too seriously compared to everyone else.”

Eren’s eyes light up at this information, like he finds it charming. “So, you were me?”

Levi scoffs, shaking his head ruefully. “Basically, yeah. Back in middle school, I could also get away with being 5’3” and calling myself average height.” He looks over and snorts when he sees Eren watching him nervously, like finding that comment funny would be rude. With anyone else, it might have been. “You’re allowed to _laugh_ , you know. I’m fucking hilarious.”

“Oh, I’m _allowed_ to laugh?”

“Yeah, I gave you permission. You’re welcome.”

“Okay,” Eren huffs disbelievingly, laying a hand on Levi’s chest and giving him a push. Levi returns the action with a quick knee to the gut and a cruel chuckle that turns into a grunt of surprise when Eren nearly rolls him off the bed.

“I’ll fucking end you, you shit,” Levi growls warningly. His mouth is trembling at the corners with the effort of remaining stern, but the warmth in his eyes gives him away.

Eren snickers and turns over onto his back, settling Levi on top of him. He blinks and says offhandedly, “You know, you’re really heavy for being so short.”

Levi gives him a pointed look until he squirms uncomfortably, and then his expression lightens with a quick breath of laughter. “Dance,” he says. When Eren tilts his head in confusion, Levi waves a hand and elaborates, “To work out, I dance. It’s better than going to the gym. I mean, we have a studio in the basement and my mom’s a choreographer, so. But yeah, muscle definition and all that.”

“That’s really cool,” Eren says, and Levi has no doubt that he means it; his eyes are wide and shining in the way they get when he’s captivated by something.

Honestly, Levi feels a twinge of pride in being the object of Eren’s admiration, but he still thinks that someone else being impressed by something that, to him, is more of a routine than a great accomplishment is pointless. He rolls his eyes at Eren, simply saying, “You get excited by the weirdest things.”

Eren grins at him. “It’s not weird; I didn’t know you could dance—like, _actual_ dancing. And you already act and sing. That’s amazing, you’re a triple-threat.”

“Fucking wow, I learned something today. There’s dancing, and then there’s _actual_ dancing.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Eren laughs, sitting up and jabbing at him. “Take the compliment.”

“Only when you compliment me for something that I actually think deserves one,” Levi retorts, flicking Eren’s cheek. Eren huffs and rubs at the little red mark left behind, but he pauses when the rumble of a car pulling up to the house filters in through the cracked window. He leaps up from the bed.

“Parents are home,” he announces, turning to look down at Levi with a sly smile, like he’s about to say something naughty. “Do you wanna spend the night?” he asks, tone clearly indicating that the question is far from innocent.

Levi gives him a suggestive smirk but says, “Sounds fun, but I’m pretty sure your parents are onto us, or they’re at least wondering.”

“I haven’t told them anything, though.”

“You’re not as subtle as you think. Besides, ‘spending the night’ has a different meaning now that I’m not ready to think about yet, and I don’t think you are either.” Levi says pointedly. Eren gives him a brief pout but concedes, and he brightens considerably when Levi reaches forward and tugs him back down to the bed for a hard kiss. Levi pulls back eventually and murmurs against his mouth, “Someday, though.”

Eren nods, the tip of his nose softly bumping against Levi’s. He smiles and leans closer for another quick peck. “Someday.”

~~~

“Nope,” Levi snaps, arms folded and glowering darkly. “No. Absolutely not. There is no fucking way.”

“Levi, language,” Shadis warns from his seat on the bleachers, watching him carefully. “It’s also not up to you; this is what we’ve decided would be the best course of action, so you will just have to deal with it. All of you,” he adds, leveling a serious stare at the rest of the cast.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Levi drawls, completely insincere. He raises his hands, wrists limp and palms facing the sky in a gesture that says, loud and clear, _‘Are you fucking kidding me?’_ He barks out a humorless laugh and says, “I completely fail to see why this is a necessary thing. Like, what the fuck—”

“Levi.”

“—is this going to accomplish besides giving them more ammo to make fun of us? They’re not going to fucking pay attention.”

“Levi, watch your mouth.”

“I don’t _fucking_ think I will,” Levi fires back, hands coming to rest on his hips. Shadis gives him a long-suffering look but seems resigned to the fact that Levi is speaking no matter what, so he lets him rant. “There is no way in hell that this is going to accomplish anything at all; look at how fucking uncomfortable everyone looks,” he says, gesturing wildly behind him where he knows most of, if not all, the cast is watching the exchange with a sense of disquiet. “You seriously expect us to have a decent, longer practice and get double the work done when we have to worry about what these two shitmongers are going to be saying about us behind our backs? Whose fucking genius idea was this?”

“Mine,” Shadis replies without missing a beat. “And I understand that you’re upset, really. But Levi, if you don’t watch what you say, I’m going to have to write you up. Control your temper.”

“I’m completely in control,” Levi sneers, like the idea that any of his words had been said impulsively is ridiculous. However, he doesn’t continue his tirade; if Shadis’ tone had been anywhere near threatening, it wouldn’t have stopped him, but he can tell that the director genuinely doesn’t want to discipline him. That alone is enough to make him settle for cocking a brow and letting his displeasure show on his face.

Shadis frowns at him for a few more moments before glancing at the others. “Is there anyone else who has something they want to say?”

“I agree with Levi,” Erwin speaks up, standing at his friend’s shoulder. His expression is stony. “I can understand why it’s a good idea in theory, but in practice… With all due respect, Director Shadis, I don’t think this will be a productive day, no matter how hard we try to ignore our… visitors.”

Shadis scans the faces of the cast one by one, met with varying degrees of uncomfortable gazes that all turn away when he looks at them, except one. “Jaeger?” he prompts.

Eren blinks, expression blank. The bruise around his left eye is a sickly yellow color, standing out starkly despite the healthy tan of the rest of his skin. “Sir?” he finally responds.

“How do you feel about this?”

Eren is stiff, and Levi sees the nearly imperceptible movement as he scoots closer. His throat works for a moment before he answers honestly, “I don’t like it.”

“What exactly do you not like about this situation?”

“Is that seriously a question?” Levi snarks. He misses Shadis’ disapproving glance because he’s watching the faint smile his words earn from Eren, which is why he said them in the first place.

“I don’t feel comfortable having them here,” Eren admits, gesturing at the two boys seated by Shadis. “The fact that their punishment is lighter than mine was is something I have no say about, and I get that, but… Why do they have to be here? In our practice? I’m not the only one this affects, now.”

Shadis nods and gives it a moment of thought. “I understand that. But I believe that the best way to correct Mr. Dieter and Mr. Jurgen’s belief that the theater program is nothing but—how did you put it last Tuesday, boys?” he asks, turning and giving the two football players an intimidating glower that has them shifting uncomfortably. “A bunch of useless faggots?” He spits the words like acid, and more than one person hisses an angry breath.

Director Shadis turns back to the cast. “The best way to correct that belief is to show them firsthand what we really do here. How hard you work. Why we are one of the best programs that Shiganshina High has to offer,” he throws in casually, but Levi smirks when he detects the slightest emphasis on the ‘we.’ Shadis folds his arms and stands, eyeing the group. “Do you think you can do that? Because I’ll be honest with you, it’s going to be a long day, and you are not going home until you get everything done. We have to finish going over ‘My Eyes’, work on scenes four and five, and learn ‘Penny’s Song’. You have a big job. Can you handle it?”

Only one answer is acceptable. The cast shouts back an affirmative, considerably inspired, but Levi is watching Dieter and Jurgen with narrowed eyes. Dieter is the blonde one, he knows—the one who’d started the fight. And even if he hadn’t been given a physical description beforehand, he would have figured it out just by the kid's attitude.

Now that the focus is off of the two of them, Dieter is lounging back with his arms crossed, looking supremely bored. His friend is being a bit more polite, at least pretending to care about the fact that he’s not surrounded by any of his friends from football; he keeps trying to make eye contact with Reiner, but the junior hasn’t even glanced over at him.

Levi glances back over at Dieter and isn’t even surprised to find that his glare is being returned in full force. He thinks back a bit and recalls Mikasa telling him the details of the fight—that Eren had gotten physical because Dieter had said something about him. Judging by the light of recognition in his eyes, yeah, he’d deliberately targeted Levi, and no, he’s certainly not sorry.

Without even checking to make sure that Director Shadis isn’t watching, Levi slowly cocks a challenging brow and places one hand on his hip; the other is raised, middle finger extended, the silver ring he’s wearing glinting in the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym. Dieter scowls, and it makes Levi smile coldly.

_‘Take notes, you pig. Don’t ever fuck with my program.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points to whoever knows what movie Levi mentally quotes. It's an amazing film. :P


	11. Penny's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His grand-mère used to tell him stories, back when he’d been a little too young to understand them, of how she’d met his grandfather. For all of the times that she’d admitted that she didn’t think very much of Americans and their sloppy habits, she’d still married one. And when he’d ask why, her lips would quirk up in a secretive smile, and her eyes would soften in a way that would only happen when she talked about her husband. And she’d tap a well-manicured fingernail to her chin and then say in a lilting voice, “Mon petit chouchou, someday you will have a moment when you stop, you see, and then everything is clear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really talky chapter, I know, but it's rehearsal-centric, and teenagers are talkative, and Levi would seriously just NOT shut up. Oh man. Also, it's not edited. I am trash but I will read it over, I swear! Haha, I'm juggling like fifty things at once right now (including a new fic for NaNoWriMo that you can check out if you like), so I just wanted to throw this up and check it off my list. Also note, updates for the rest of November might be considerably slower because my priorities go full-time schoolwork, part-time job, NaNoWriMo, and then this. But I won't forget this story! So bear with me. :)
> 
> P.S. The switch from 'Eren' to 'Penny' in their scene is deliberate; Eren is always astoundingly in character, so.

“We are doing a piss-poor job of showing them why this program’s the best,” Levi mutters, quickly skimming the scene in his script. Shadis, steadily growing exasperated with their inability to set the right tone, had told them to take a five minute break to figure out what the problem is.

“Sorry. I just feel pretty nervous.”

Levi glances over and up at Bertholdt, frowning. The kid—it’s weird thinking of someone who’s as tall as he is as a kid, but he’s a year younger, so Levi does it anyway—is fumbling shakily with his script, eyes on the page but not processing the words.

Bertholdt is the kind of actor who has plenty of talent, but ultimately falls short in the self-confidence department. He’s also very soft spoken. He’s improved over the years, though; Levi can recall seeing him in his freshman year, still gangly and shy as hell, but also very weak-willed. He’d heard stories about how Shadis would yell at him during rehearsal, not because the man was actually angry about his performance, but because the only way to get Bertholdt to make a concrete decision about his actions rather than do something and wait to be directed was to scare him into it.

Now, he’s grown out of his indecisiveness, but he’s as self-deprecating as ever, and Levi doesn’t like that. “It’s not all on you, kid,” he says, and he doesn’t miss the reluctant smile that the moniker earns. Levi shrugs and throws up a hand, gesturing to himself. “I’m still angry with those two shits for being here. I’m not, you know—compartmentalizing or whatever,” he mutters.

Bertholdt nods understandingly and says gently, “I can tell. You’re biting your nails.”

Levi scowls and pulls his hand away from his mouth. “Fucking fuck.”

The language earns him a sheepish smile. After a moment, Bertholdt says, “It’s hard. Having to act like we’re okay with them being here when really, it’s not. It’s awful. There’s so many things that are unfair about this, and we have no choice to put up with it.” He glances around the gym, a bit melancholy, and adds, “I feel bad for Reiner.”

At his apologetic glance, Levi shakes his head and waves it away. “It’s fine; so do I. That’s a really shitty situation to be in.”

“Are you mad at him for what happened?”

Levi snorts and actually gives him an incredulous smile. “Why do people keep asking _me_ that? I’m not the one who got beat up. And no, I’m not. Wasn’t his fault.”

Bertholdt shrugs and fiddles with his script. “That’s good. And, I don’t know. I heard that they said something about you, and that’s why Eren jumped at them.”

“The only thing I have to be mad at right now is the fact that my boyfriend is gonna suck face with my best friend,” Levi mutters, only half-jokingly. “And my best friend is a piece of shit,” he says loudly, and both Erwin and Eren look up from their place across the gym. Erwin throws an arm around Eren and waves, and Levi scowls.

Bertholdt laughs. “That must be nice, though.” At Levi’s questioning look, he clarifies, “Having a boyfriend. And everyone… rooting? Yeah, I guess that’s the word—rooting for you two.”

Levi stares at him and asks, curious, “Is there someone you—”

“No.” The response is quick and nervous. Bertholdt chuckles shakily and avoids his eyes. “Well, I don’t mean no, I just… I mean, I do like someone but I don’t want to tell them, because I don’t want to make things awkward and… Yeah. No.”

Levi feels a little bad now, because he hadn’t meant to dampen the taller boy’s mood even further. He gives it a moment of thought, barbell clicking to fill the silence, and then he says bluntly, “You’re scared a lot.”

“…Yeah,” Bertholdt agrees. “I know.”

Levi stretches and glances around, spotting Shadis coming back into the gym with Dieter and Jurgen at his heels. Ignoring the fact that they hadn’t actually gotten anything done in the short break, he looks up at Bertholdt and tells him, “You shouldn’t be. Maybe I should just get Shadis to yell at you. What did he always tell you before?”

Bertholdt grins and flushes in embarrassment, but answers, “Make a decision, kid, don’t just waffle back and forth hoping someone will tell you what to do. Jesus Christ, you might as well buy me a…”

“Fucking neck brace for the whiplash,” Levi finishes, amused. He shakes his head. “Whatever, big guy like you will figure it out. You’re in, what, the top ten of your class?” He nods and taps Bertholdt’s elbow with his rolled-up script. “Smart.”

“Book smarts don’t exactly help with situations like these,” he mutters.

“At least you have _some_ kind of smarts.” He pauses for a moment, and then continues, “I’ll deny it if you say anything, but I’m a fucking loser. Can’t do shit when it comes to dealing with this stuff myself. Eren made the first move, technically. And if you think _he_ had any idea what he was doing either, you haven’t been paying attention the past month.”

Bertholdt giggles—that’s actually pretty adorable, and Levi thinks that the kid probably has more of a chance with whoever he’s got a crush on than he believes; he just needs to be more confident, and he tells him so.

“So the problem with the scene is your confidence level?” Shadis questions, taking a seat on the bleachers with the football players following.

Bertholdt and Levi share a privately amused glance, and the latter quirks a brow and smirks. “Yeah,” he drawls. “We’re getting there, though.”

Shadis studies them and waves a hand. “Alright. Start the scene, then.”

Nodding and sparing a dirty look at Dieter, who’s been glowering at him for most of practice so far, Levi turns and faces Bertholdt, waiting for the first line. The taller boy glances down nervously at him, and Levi rolls his eyes and mutters out of the corner of his mouth, “Just sweat a lot, you’ll be fine.”

Bertholdt stares at him seriously and whispers, “Yeah, you should probably get an umbrella.”

It takes Levi a second, but when he gets the joke, he doubles over with a loud guffaw that draws the attention of half the people in the gym. He holds up a finger at Shadis’ exasperated expression and calls, “No, no, give me a second. This big-ass beanpole just made the best joke I’ve heard all day. Oh shit. Wow. Okay, I’m good—I needed that, actually.” He straightens and points at Bertholdt. “Not bad. Okay, go.”

There’s a moment’s pause before Bertholdt speaks, voice pitching in confusion. “Kill someone?”

It’s a little difficult for Levi because he’s not entirely _in_ the scene—he can’t quite get fully into character with all the activity going on around the gym, like the dancers working on the routine for ‘Penny’s Song’ and Erwin and Eren working on a section of the next scene a few yards away, their voices carrying. Not to mention, he’s very aware of the sullen looks being directed towards him by Dieter and Jurgen.

He refuses to let it keep throwing him off, though, and infuses his voice with just enough confliction to sound believable without being forced when he asks, “Would you do it? To get into the Evil League of Evil?”

Bertholdt frowns at him and raises his arms in a half-hearted shrug. “Look at me, man. I’m Moist. At my most badass, I make people feel like they want to take a shower,” he says feebly. “I’m not ELE material.”

Levi paces, hand tapping at his chin as he thinks. Finally, he rolls his eyes and gripes, “ _Killing_ is not elegant or creative. It’s not my style.”

“You’ve got more than enough evil hours to get into the Henchman’s Union,” Bertholdt suggests. Levi scowls.

“Psh, I’m not a henchman. I’m Dr. Horrible! I’ve got a PhD in horribleness!”

“Is that the new catchphrase?”

“I _deserve_ to get in,” Levi continues like Bertholdt hadn’t spoken. He cranes his neck up to look at him, gesturing insistently as he says, “You know I do. But… killing? _Really_?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Bertholdt snaps his fingers and says, “Hourglass says she knows a kid in Iowa who grows up to be president! That’d be big.”

Levi keeps his expression still, but widens his eyes and lets a shocked silence stretch before he replies with a mildly horrified, “I’m not gonna kill a little kid.”

“Smother an old lady?”

Levi drops his script and takes a step back, hands thrown in the air and brows furrowed when he snaps back, “Do I even _know_ you?”

They stare at each other helplessly for a few moments before dropping their characters and turning to look at Shadis, who is watching them thoughtfully. That’s a step up from the expression of annoyance that he’d been wearing so far, and Levi gives Bertholdt a subtle, approving nod.

“Alright boys,” Shadis begins, and Levi blinks when he turns towards Dieter and Jurgen to ask, “What about that time made it better than the other attempts at the scene?”

Bertholdt freezes, fingers working nervously at the edges of the pages of his script, and Levi elbows him in the hip to keep him from mangling it. He ignores the worried look the taller boy gives him and watches the outsiders for their answers, if they give one at all.

Dieter is as uncooperative as ever, slouching in his seat and folding his arms. “Didn’t look different to me,” he snaps.

Jurgen gives him an uneasy look before glancing at Shadis. The director is immobile, intimidating gaze boring into him as he waits for an answer. He doesn’t look pleased by Dieter’s attitude, and Jurgen shifts uncomfortably before shrugging and throwing out an arbitrary, “I don’t know. It was kind of funny this time, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Uh…” Jurgen trails off, looking to Dieter for help. Dieter scowls at him, and Levi thinks it’s because Jurgen’s not being as much of a dick as he is. In fact, the brunette athlete had looked like he’d actually been faintly interested during the scene, but he can’t really bring himself to consider that as a victory because he would honestly be happier if neither of the boys were in their practice at all.

“It was kind of funny because it was like, a serious topic,” Jurgen continues, clearly not happy with being stared at so intently by any of them. “But the way they said things was sort of casual, so sometimes it wasn’t as serious,” he finished lamely, but Shadis nods like he understands what the kid is saying.

And then Shadis asks him, “If I were to give you a copy of the script and tell you to take Levi or Bertholdt’s place and do the scene, could you?”

Jurgen stiffens, and the look on his face clearly says that he doesn’t want to admit that he couldn’t, but the silence is enough of an answer. Shadis spares a glance at Dieter, but the kid is looking off in another direction, gaze cold and mouth set in a firm line. The director shakes his head and glances back over at Levi and Bertholdt, both of whom silently wait for direction.

“That was improved,” he tells them. “Do it again.”

~~~

“How’re you feeling?”

Eren blinks, surprised, before he smiles warmly. “Alright, I guess.” Then, he adds teasingly, “You don’t have to be worried about me, though.”

Levi rolls his eyes and elbows him in the side. “I’m worried about the scene, dipshit. I don’t want to be here late as fuck because we can’t pull it together for the next—” He glances up at the clock mounted high on the wall. “—hour or so.” He frowns, his normally perfect posture faltering slightly under the weight of what feels like bone-deep exhaustion. His grand-mère would be appalled.

He allows himself a quiet moment of contentment when Eren reaches over and links their fingers together; somewhere off to the side of the gym floor, someone in the ensemble whispers an ‘ _aww_ ’, but Levi ignores it. Eren, he knows, is actually more in character than he is, and Penny’s gentleness permeates Eren’s behavior even when they’re not in a scene. Levi accepts the gesture, though, enjoying the solid warmth of his skin, and how secure his touch is.

Briefly, Levi’s thoughts wander to their unwelcome observers’ reactions, but he doesn’t look towards the bleachers where he knows they’re watching. He already feels a bit gloomy, because that’s how his character starts off the scene, and he knows that he doesn’t need to add any more negativity to the mix.

“Billy, Penny,” Shadis calls, and he motions to the floor right in front of the stage, where two fake washing machines used for the scene are set up. “Get to your places, take a couple of minutes, and then go. I want to run the whole scene, stop-and-go.”

“The number, too?” Eren asks.

“Yes. Now get ready.”

“I hate stop-and-go,” Eren grumbles as they make their way to the gym floor, right by the stage.

Levi hops up onto one of the two fake washing machines that the crew had constructed for the Coin Wash set and frowns. Eren is fidgeting, and though the action isn’t unusual, there’s a stiffness to the little movements and a little pucker in the skin between his brows. “What’s up?” Levi asks, and Eren perches himself on top of one of the washing machines.

“Having them here to see this _really_ sucks,” he answers quietly, eyes downcast.

Levi taps him on the knee and says, “Hey. Look at me.” When he does, Levi shrugs and continues, “I know you’ve heard this like, a million times already and it must be getting old, but you’re talented as shit. Look at you.” When Eren snorts and rolls his eyes, Levi grabs him by the wrist and snaps, “No, I’m not kidding around with this. Look at you. You’re a freshman who landed a lead role. You’re one of the most talented kids this program has seen come through, and it’s only your first year. Some shitty people tried to screw you over, and we all basically told them to fuck right off because if anyone deserves to be here, it’s a dumb shit like you who’s been giving one hundred and fifty percent to this show before you were even cast.

“So don’t let a couple of assholes screw this up for you. You’re better than that,” he finishes, watching Eren for his reaction. He looks away again just for a second, his lips quivering before breaking out into a sunny smile that makes Levi’s gaze soften with affection.

“Thanks,” Eren whispers, sliding his hand into Levi’s and gently tracing his fingers in a way that seems almost reverent.

Levi gives his hand a squeeze and doesn’t say anything more. After a while, Shadis calls, “Are you boys ready?” At their affirmative, he nods and says, “Alright, everybody in your places. Here’s how the scene will go; it’s a gloomy day. Over the sound system, we’re gonna have rain playing, and the lights will be blue. Make a note, all of your costumes for this scene are only allowed to be shades of gray, except for Penny. Ms. Nanaba will be buying a specific outfit for you. Okay. Start the scene.”

Levi pulls away from Eren and draws his legs up, crossing them and waiting for the rest of the ensemble to shuffle into place behind the pair of them. When everyone is quiet, he sighs heavily and claps his hands together, saying, “I just, you know, really think I’m… _qualified_ for this—this job, and…” He shrugs, looking up at the ceiling and finishing a bit pathetically, “I just can’t get my foot in the door.”

“I’m sure you will,” is the immediate, soothing response. Penny is dangling his legs off the edge of the washing machine, looking over and smiling warmly.

It takes him a moment to remember how to speak, but when he does, he says, “I wanna do great things, you know? I wanna be an achiever. Like Bad Horse.”

Penny’s legs stop swinging. “…The thoroughbred of sin?”

He freezes. “…I meant Ghandi.”

Penny snorts and shakes his head, looking at him like he’s just said something really funny, and a couple of people chuckle from the bleachers, but the sound barely registers to the two of them, in their own world far away from a crappy high school gym. “Well,” Penny starts after the laughter fades, “I’ve gotten turned down for plenty of jobs. Even fired a few times.”

He blinks and says a bit dubiously, “I can’t imagine anybody firing you.”

Penny shrugs. “Neither could I. Now I can visualize it _really_ well,” he quips, huffing an amused little breath at his own joke. When it earns no reaction other than a half-hearted smirk, Penny continues, “But, you know, everything happens—”

“Don’t say ‘for a reason,’” he interrupts almost pleadingly, holding up a hand and actually smiling, but it’s a melancholy action.

“No,” Penny chimes with an adorable tilt of the head. He smiles knowingly and adds, “I’m… I’m just saying that everything happens.”

He gives it the pause he feels the moment needs before responding with a somber but sincere, “Not to me.”

Since the sound system’s not being used for today, there’s a beat of silence in between where his words end and ‘Penny’s Song’ begins, but the second that Eren’s voice, clear and earnest, reaches his ears, absolutely nothing else matters. Levi is very aware of how his entire world tunnels down to the bright, green eyes, the warm, boyish grin—everything about Eren, really. He tries to see him as Penny, tries to latch back on to his own character, but then again, it’s not like he needs to fake how captivated he is.

Maybe that should worry him. But with the soft notes of Ms. Brzenska's piano fading in and highlighting Eren’s voice, with the lyrics that he’s singing, he doesn’t feel like dwelling on it.

Pixis has outdone himself with this number, really. Once the chorus hits, Levi sees the ensemble twirling into view around them, each of them holding gossamer scarves in every color of the rainbow. He blinks in realization when he remembers that he shouldn’t be staring at them, and he turns his gaze back to Eren just in time to hear him croon, “And every day of rain brings water flowing to things growing in the ground.”

He watches Eren slide off of the washing machine and walk forward, and he follows close behind; the ensemble trails after them, and Levi spares a moment of thought to wish that he was watching this from the outside, because the colored scarves are fluttering and tumbling through the air around them, always moving but never touching the ground. They fan out, leaving Levi and Eren standing in the center of the floor, facing each other.

 _‘Friggin’ amazing,’_ Levi thinks idly, tilting his head down to look at the ground because it’s a stage direction, when all he really wants to do is watch Eren.

“Every time you’re hurt, there’s one who has it worse around,” he sings, stepping closer, and Levi feels his heart clench and then flutter wildly behind his ribs, and he honestly can’t tell whether he’s acting or not anymore. Eren’s voice pitches and nails the high note with a gorgeous vibrato that makes Levi forget to breathe for a moment, the tone so rich that everything else seems to fade.

And then there’s a gentle touch of two fingers against his chin, lifting his head so that his gaze meets those bright, intense eyes that he knows very well now, and they’re fond when Eren finishes, sweetly, “So keep your head up, Billy buddy.”

 _‘Oh Jesus,’_ Levi thinks, and if there were any air in his lungs, Eren would have just stolen it then and there. _‘I could really fall for you. Holy hell.’_

He wants a moment—more than that, actually, he wants an infinite amount of time—to treasure this sudden clarity that he’s been afforded.

His grand-mère used to tell him stories, back when he’d been a little too young to understand them, of how she’d met his grandfather. For all of the times that she’d admitted that she didn’t think very much of Americans and their sloppy habits, she’d still married one. And when he’d ask why, her lips would quirk up in a secretive smile, and her eyes would soften in a way that would only happen when she talked about her husband. And she’d tap a well-manicured fingernail to her chin and then say in a lilting voice, _“Mon petit chouchou, someday you will have a moment when you stop, you see, and then everything is clear.”_

Levi swallows hard and then blinks when he notices that Eren is very close to him. He inhales sharply through his nose, which makes Eren open his eyes, and they both share the same surprised look that says, _‘Oh, right, we aren’t supposed to kiss.’_

The rest of the scene doesn’t go as wonderfully as the beginning had, but Levi, for once, feels too content to care. He thinks that the mood might be infectious, because Shadis has to keep reminding the both of them to create tension; it’s all flowing a little too smoothly.

Of course, any tension they build promptly comes crashing down when Eren accidentally refers to Erwin as ‘Captain Handsome’ instead of ‘Captain Hammer,’ and they have to take a two-minute break just because Levi can’t stop laughing long enough to keep going. However, he sobers up pretty quickly when he has to watch his boyfriend kiss his best friend—the grimace on his face is most definitely _not_ acting—and by the end of the scene, all of the innuendos and smug smirks that Erwin keeps throwing him most definitely have him riled enough to break out into a song about murder. Unfortunately, ‘Brand New Day’ isn’t going to be covered until the next practice, so Levi settles for a sharp elbow to the gut that knocks the wind out of Erwin once Shadis declares the scene good enough.

“It’s just acting, Levi,” Erwin tells him, but there’s a note of amusement in his voice that’s hard to miss, and Levi glowers at him.

“You’re having a little too much fun with it, is all I’m saying.”

“You’re just mad because the only one who’s ever called you handsome is Petra.”

“Levi, knock it off,” Shadis calls when Levi makes a particularly impressive leap to pull Erwin into a headlock. The shorter boy relents with an irritated grumble but gives Erwin a pointed look when he plops down next to Eren and takes his hand; Erwin just gives him an infuriatingly cheerful smile and sits on Eren’s other side.

“I never thought you were the jealous type,” Eren says, barely suppressing his laughter.

Levi rolls his eyes and replies, “I’m really not, but Erwin’s being a giant bag of dicks on purpose, so.”

“I’ll be honest with you, having guys fight over me is kind of fun.”

Levi stares at him incredulously. “You’re a little monster, you know that?” When Eren’s only response is a flirtatious smirk and a wink, Levi scowls at him and has to turn away to hide his rapidly warming face. “Jackass,” he mutters, completely missing the discreet thumbs-up that Erwin gives the younger boy.

“Okay,” Shadis says a few moments later, drawing everyone’s attention. “You’ve worked long and hard, and I want to get you the hell out of here at a decent hour, but first we have to talk.” A couple of people shift uncomfortably, and Shadis waits for them to settle down before he continues, “Today started out rough. Tell me why.”

“We aren’t comfortable having the football players here,” Connie speaks up, and Levi approves of his use of the present tense. Even though he’d ignored them towards the end of practice to the point that he’d nearly forgotten they were there, ‘comfortable’ is the last term he’d use to describe his feelings in regards to their presence.

“And remind me of why that is.”

“They hurt Eren,” someone says, and everybody else falls silent and turns to look at Reiner, who is frowning up at Shadis. “And they weren’t at all apologetic about the fact that they nearly derailed our show.”

“Is that so,” Shadis murmurs thoughtfully, scrutinizing the junior. On the bleachers beside him, Jurgen looks a cross between crestfallen and contrite, while Dieter just looks betrayed.

Reiner raises his voice and looks right at the two of them when he says, “I might not have been there for the fight, but I was around when you’d brag about it to the team the days after it happened. Football and theater might not have the best relationship with each other, but the fact is that we’re still a part of the same school, and we should be acknowledging each other rather than trying to bring each other down. You’re both, what, sophomores? I might only be a year older than you, but I’ve been around long enough to see this kind of thing happen all the time. It’s never been a physical fight, but it’s always the verbal things, and it sucks that I can’t stop it.

“You act like theater is such a useless thing, but theater is honestly one of the greatest things about this school, and it means a lot to me. I know I’m not supposed to say things like this, but it means a lot more to me than football does. And before you get all angry with me, know that it’s not because theater brings home trophies from state every year. The trophies don’t matter; what matters is the people. Guys,” he says, looking around at the cast. “How many of you have been to a football game to cheer me on?”

Everyone, even Levi, raises their hands.

Reiner nods, swallowing hard, and then he looks back at Dieter and Jurgen. “Have you ever come to see me in a show, even once?” When the only response he gets is a stunned silence, he nods again and smiles a little ruefully. “Yeah, neither has anyone else on the team.”

“Unity seems to be a problem in this school,” Shadis remarks, glancing down at the boys. “Answer me this; are the two of you tired?”

There’s an awkward pause, and they both mumble, “Yeah.”

Shadis folds his arms across his chest and says, “I thought so. You look tired. And just think; all the two of you have been doing is sitting here the entire time, watching others work. Could you imagine having a football practice this long? You’d drop dead on the field, I bet.” He checks his wristwatch and frowns. “It’s nearly ten. My kids have been working nonstop since three in the afternoon, without any complaint at all. Now, I’m not saying that you don’t work hard in football. You do. What I’m trying to say—what I’m trying to show you—is that every single one of these kids works just as hard as you do, and you have no right to belittle them for it. They—with the exception of Reiner—couldn’t do your job, and you couldn’t do theirs. Eren,” he calls, and the brunette jumps a little in his seat.

“Sir?”

“Do you resent Dieter and Jurgen for what happened last week? Do you think they deserve worse than what they got?”

There’s a tense silence as Eren ponders his answer, and Levi returns the nervous squeeze that Eren gives his hand right before he responds, “Not exactly.”

“Explain.”

Eren takes a breath and says, “I’m here now, so there’s no point in getting self-righteous about something that doesn’t even matter anymore.”

Levi’s eyes widen, and he feels a ridiculous rush of affection when he recognizes the words as something he’d told Eren back at the beginning of the school year, when he’d talked about his expulsion from Sina. “You little shit,” he says under his breath, and Eren throws him a secretive smile.

“I don’t really resent them for what happened to me, because I’m not going to act like I’m better than they are just because I’m in theater. I’m lucky that all I ended up with is a black eye and a suspension, because I think that’s a lot better than getting kicked out of the show. And yeah, they had a lighter punishment, but…” Eren shrugs. “It is what it is, I guess. I can’t change it, all I can do is keep moving forward.” His expression darkens, though, and he adds, “I won’t forgive them for what they said about Levi, though.”

Levi gives Eren a dirty look when that statement has all eyes in the room turning to him; he doesn’t want to talk, he just wants to go home.

“It’s true, though,” Dieter says, and he waits until Levi is looking at him to bite out, “He’s a stuck-up snob, and that’s why he got kicked out of Sina.”

It’s with an absolutely Herculean effort that Levi manages to mentally count to ten, trying to clear the red mist gathering in his vision before he says lowly, “Excuse me?”

Dieter scowls and snaps, “I _said_ , you’re a stuck-up snob, and that’s why they kicked you out of Sina.”

Eren is practically crushing his hand, but Levi doesn’t pull away because he’s pretty certain that his own grip is just as punishing; he thinks that if he lets go, he’ll probably try to hit someone, and the last thing they need is another setback. He takes an even breath through his nose and then begins, quietly, “First off, you’re being redundant. Stuck-up and snob literally mean the same thing, so pick one insult and stick with it. Or consult a dictionary if you really need more. Secondly, you don’t have a single clue about what went on at Sina—I’m surprised you even know about it, considering you were what, twelve when it happened?”

“My brother told me everything.”

Levi raises his brows and repeats, “Your brother? Who the hell’s your brother?”

“Ivan,” he responds harshly, glowering. “Ivan Dieter.”

It takes Levi a second, but when the name registers— _‘Dieter. Holy fucking shit, I cannot believe I didn’t put that together.’_ —he barks out a humorless laugh and says, “Oh, _wow_ , Christ on a stick. Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Levi,” Shadis begins warningly.

Levi waves a hand and continues nonchalantly, “No, no, don’t worry, I’m fine. I just literally can’t believe this. I can’t believe this.”

“Who’s Ivan?” someone whispers. Levi snorts.

“Ivan Dieter was a senior at Sina when I was a freshman,” Levi announces, and his voice is shaking with poorly suppressed amusement. “And he was a long-time theater vet who _everyone_ thought was going to get the main role in the fall production.” He rolls his eyes and drawls, “Didn’t really work out that way.”

Eren looks dumbfounded, glancing back and forth from Levi to Dieter. Finally, he manages to get out, “So, when you—”

“Look, kid,” Levi snaps, pointing at Dieter. “You literally know fuck-all about this. Okay? It happened three years ago, and interestingly enough, it happened almost the exact same way that your pointless little fight did. Friggin’ wow. Look, you wanna hold a grudge for something that wasn’t even _about_ you in the first place, fine, but you had no right dragging Eren into it.”

“He’s just like you,” Dieter growls.

Levi glowers at him and responds with a quietly furious, “Eren is a hell of a lot better than me, and a lot better than you, and I don’t give a shit if I’m not allowed to say stuff like that; I’ll fucking do it anyway, because it’s true.” There’s a moment of stunned silence, and when nobody interrupts him, he asks, “How’s your brother doing anyway?”

Dieter blinks. “What?”

“I said, how’s your brother doing?”

“… He’s in his third year of college.”

“Theater major?”

“… No. Pre-law.”

Levi nods and responds with a sincere, “Good for him. Really. No offense to anyone who might be considering a career in it—” He gives Eren a sly glance. “—but theater isn’t the kind of career anyone looking for a steady income should consider.” There’s another pregnant pause, and then Levi asks, “Does he ever mention Sina?”

Dieter glares at him, a bit confused, but shakes his head no.

Levi nods and gives him a wry smirk when he says, “Yeah, that’s probably because it was three years ago and doesn’t even matter anymore.”

“I remembered hearing about you, though.”

Levi finally lets go of Eren’s hand and throws his arms out. “So? Big deal, you remembered that I was the kid your big brother got in a fight with because I landed a lead role and he didn’t. It got me expelled from an elite school. Isn’t that enough for you? Or are you so fucking selfish that you not only dragged a completely innocent kid into your pointless grudge, but you also put your _teammate,_ ” he stresses, pointing a finger over his shoulder at where Reiner is, “in probably what is the shittiest position anyone could be in; caught between two clubs fighting, when he cares about both of them, and he can’t do anything to help anyone. How friggin’ rude.”

When Shadis opens his mouth to speak, Levi holds his hand up and says, “I’m almost done, really.” He looks at Dieter again, and the kid is frowning, but his gaze doesn’t hold half of the blind anger that it had a minute ago. “Look, your brother was talented. Everyone at Sina was talented. And yeah, it must have sucked to feel like you deserve one thing and see it go to some wet-behind-the-ears freshman who hasn’t even done anything yet. If I were him, I can’t say I would have been too glad about it either. But it literally doesn’t matter anymore. He’s in college. Apparently he’s doing great. I’m a senior here; soon I’ll be applying to college myself, but for now, I’m trying to enjoy my last year and my first _real_ show with a fucking incredible group of people.

“I don’t have time for your petty bullshit here. No one does. Grow up, kid, geez. Focus on football. Focus on school. Focus on shit you like, whatever. But if you really can’t let it go, then fine, fight me. I don’t care, I’ll take you on—preferably somewhere off school grounds so we’re not landing ourselves in even more trouble. If that’s what it takes to get you off my damn back, okay. But don’t go screwing with my program or the other people in it anymore. It’s stupid and unnecessary, and I bet if you brought this up to your brother, he’d think it’s pretty damn childish of you to waste your time and energy on something that didn’t even involve you in the first place. And that’s all I have to say about that.”

Dieter isn’t even looking at him anymore; he’s slumping in his seat, staring blankly at the ground with a pensive frown on his face. By now, Levi is too tired to care about anything other than getting home, ignoring all his homework, and going right to bed. He listens with half an ear as Shadis gives them a closing talk and then dismisses them, but he offers sincere—and slightly weary—goodbyes to everyone when he leaves, not even sparing a glance back at the bleachers, where the two football players are still sitting.

Eren catches up to him outside in the hall, and they walk along in companionable silence out to the student parking lot. They both hop into Levi’s car, and they sit there for a few moments, breath misting in the chilly September air. Finally, Levi glances over and raises a single questioning brow.

Eren watches him with an odd shine in his eyes. “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said in the gym,” Eren begins hesitantly, hands fidgeting in his lap. “… Do you actually think I’m better than you?”

Levi blinks, huffing out a surprised breath. “Obviously. How is that even a question?”

“How can you say that, though?” Eren exclaims, brows furrowing. “This is only my first year, and I barely know what I’m doing half the time. You shouldn’t say I’m better than you.”

“Look, shithead, I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, and you can’t tell me otherwise,” Levi retorts, but he’s almost smiling as he says it. He shakes his head when Eren frowns at him and reaches out to pinch his cheek. “You’re so fucking dumb. When I say you’re better than me, I’m not necessarily talking about talent—although yeah, you’re pretty fucking talented. But what I meant by that was, look at how you’ve been dealing with all this crazy shit.

“You came to auditions looking about a million times more excited than anyone else there, even the vets, and you call me out on my moody bullshit. And then you had the balls to challenge me. I don’t even think I can tell you how fucking crazy that was; you’re insane. But then you kill it at auditions, and again at callbacks, and you land yourself a lead role. And then you put ridiculous hours of work into this, and you handle it surprisingly well for a freshman.”

Levi shakes his head and gives him a sincere smile then, adding, “And then this shit happens to you, and you could do what I did and stay mad about it ‘til your senior year, but you didn’t. You accepted it for what it was and didn’t let it hold you back, and that’s just—hey. Hey, look at me,” he says, nudging Eren’s arm when the latter looks down at his lap. Eren glances back up from under his bangs, and his eyes are welling up with unshed tears. Levi chuckles and finishes, “That’s just incredible, and I’m really fucking proud of you, Bright-Eyes.”

Eren sniffs thickly and tries to discreetly wipe his nose on his sleeve. “Thanks,” he mumbles.

“That’s really gross, you know.”

Eren gurgles a wet laugh and mutters, “Shut up.” They sit there and grin stupidly at each other for a few moments before Eren takes a shaky breath and says, “I still think you’re really great, though. Really.”

Levi smirks, starting the car and throwing out a flippant, “Never said I wasn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -whispers- I think Levi is really great too. Like that's not blatantly obvious, haha. The next chapter's going to be a little more fun than this one, so I hope you'll like it when it comes. Thanks so much for reading!


	12. All About Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite all his reservations about homecoming—all the reasons not to go, like the fact that people are assholes, and the gym being too dark while the music is almost uncomfortably loud, and really, who wants to be stuck in a sea of teenage angst and hormones where apparently awkward dry-humping and fist-pumping is what passes for dancing—despite all of that, Levi is pretty content with the way the night turns out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the most monstrous, self-indulgent piece of heck that I've ever written and I actually really love it; it takes me back to my dumbshit high school days, so I hope that maybe y'all feel the nostalgia. This chapter is dedicated to the absolutely lovely and wonderful nico-neco for making an 8tracks mix for Keep Your Head Up; it is lovely and can be found at http://8tracks.com/niconeco/keep-your-head-up SO YOU SHOULD GO AND LISTEN TO IT BECAUSE IT'S JUST GLORIOUS. And it actually introduced me to the song that I named this chapter after, that I had in mind nearly the entire time I wrote this (especially at a certain part near the end so you should definitely listen to it there wink wink you'll know it when it happens).
> 
> Thank you so much for putting up with my slowed updates; I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> P.S. ALSO MAJOR GOMEN FOR BEING SHIT AT RESPONDING TO THE REPLIES LAST CHAPTER I AM DISGUSTINGLY BUSY TRASH BUT I PROMISE I WILL REPLY THIS TIME AUGH -HUGS YOU ALL-

“This is literally the worst thing you’ve ever done to me,” Levi whispers.

“Oh, don’t be silly. This is great,” Hanji cajoles, vigorously patting his arm.

He stares at her. “You put me on the ballot for homecoming court,” he says, and Hanji doesn’t think she’s ever heard him sound so horrified.

“But I thought you loved homecoming!”

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clamps his mouth shut, teeth grinding as he tries to hold off the mortified blush he can feel creeping up the back of his neck. Next to him, Erwin starts laughing. Levi holds up a hand and continues, as calmly as he can, “I like Spirit Week and I love the dance but the only thing that I fucking hate about it is the abject pageantry—”

“Someone’s been doing their English homework.”

“—shut the _fuck_ up, I hate the _abject pageantry_ of homecoming court. It’s a popularity contest, it’s stupid as shit, and I cannot believe that you _put me on the ballot_.”

Hanji shrugs, but the glimmer in her eye belies her nonchalance. She gathers the scattered papers of her Psychology homework off of the table and glances up at the clock. “It’s _just_ the ballot, Levi. Today’s the only day that everyone can vote; you might not even end up making it onto homecoming court. And if you do, that’s great; we’ll finally be able to confirm that, surprise, people actually like you.”

 _‘Note to self,’_ he thinks, frowning and folding his arms on the tabletop. His eyes narrow down to slits. _‘Kill Hanji.’_

“Don’t look at me like that,” she laughs. “Come on, it’s funny.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Ymir adds from her seat at the far end of the table, where she’s been watching the entire exchange with amusement.

Levi pauses, pursing his lips in thought. Then, he turns to Hanji and asks, “Actually, could you do that?

She quirks a brow at him, confused. “Do what?”

“If there is no God and I do end up getting elected for the court, you better put my name under the category, ‘Potential Homecoming Queen’. That’s about the only way I’ll be okay with this.”

“Oh my God—”

“No, no, think about it for a sec. Erwin gets elected and everybody votes him for Homecoming King. I get elected, everybody votes me for Homecoming Queen, and we sufficiently fuck up everything about high school’s stupid social caste system in one fell swoop. Perfection.”

“Anarchy,” Erwin adds, looking supremely entertained.

“Brilliant,” Annie announces, and Levi snaps his fingers and gives her an approving nod. Hanji laughs nervously and holds up her hands in what’s meant to be a placating gesture.

“I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that, though.”

“You’d _better_ do it,” Levi threatens, pointing accusingly at her. “If I have to suffer through the hell that is being a part of homecoming court and I don’t get some fun out of it, you are suffering with me.”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do?” she snickers, elbowing Petra in the side with a conspiratorial grin. Petra takes one look at Levi’s dark expression and gives a minute shake of the head that goes completely unnoticed.

“Sawney and Bean,” Levi replies evenly.

A sharp breath hisses between Hanji’s teeth as she drops her notebook and slams her hands down on the table. “You leave my babies out of this!”

“The fact that you call those huge-ass Rottweilers your _babies_ really says something about you.”

“Your dog is literally named Baby!”

“Yeah, by my _mom_.”

“Children,” Erwin starts in a tone that makes it obvious that this isn’t the first time he’s had to nip petty squabbles in the bud. He reaches up and deftly tugs Levi, who’s been leaning further and further over the table, back down into his seat. “Behave. Levi, like Hanji said, today’s the only day that people can vote, and you’ve made it perfectly clear to everyone—” Here, he gestures around the table where the other theater kids give him agreeing smiles. “—that you don’t want to get elected. Relax.”

“Don’t worry about it, Levi. Hey, wanna come with me and get your face painted down in the Senior Lounge?” Petra asks, standing up. “You love this Spirit Week stuff.”

Levi rolls his eyes at the obvious attempt at distraction and glances around before relenting. He doesn’t see Eren anywhere in the cafeteria yet, and he has half an hour before first period starts, so he might as well. Still, he grumbles, “What the ever-loving fuck possessed Hanji to think that was a good idea?”

Petra giggles and smiles apologetically at the dirty look it earns her. “I think she just figured you wouldn’t mind a nomination this year, considering the way you’ve been lately.” At Levi’s questioning look, she explains, “You seem a lot… happier, maybe? I don’t know, but you’re just a lot more outgoing than you’ve been before. It’s a good thing.”

There’s a pause while they get in line behind the other students waiting to have their faces painted in the name of school spirit. After a while, Levi asks, “Seriously?”

Petra looks surprised at the question and nods. “Yeah, you really do! I mean, you can be pretty rude sometimes; that hasn’t changed,” she tells him, sounding a little fond when she says it. “But I don’t know, there’s just something about you lately that seems more cheerful. Well, as cheerful as you can get, anyway.” She watches him closely and asks, “Is it Eren?”

Levi frowns at her, but it’s not an expression of disapproval. He looks more thoughtful than anything, mulling it over before he answers with an honest, “Probably. That dumb shit.”

Petra beams. “Have you asked him to homecoming yet?”

Levi gives her a dark look. “No. I don’t even know if he wants to go.”

“Well a good way to find out would be by asking him, you know.”

“Fuck off, you know what I mean. I don’t want him to feel like he’s obligated to go just because I ask him and we’re dating.”

Petra taps her chin and muses, “Eren doesn’t seem like that type of person, though. To do something out of a sense of obligation. I think he’s the kind of guy who’d make his own decisions, regardless of what anyone else says.”

“Yeah, but it’s different in relationships, isn’t it?” Levi asks flatly, staring at the ground. He cuts his eyes at her and adds, “I mean, you would know. You’ve been dating the same guy for a year now.”

Petra shrugs and says, “Well, for some people it is. Depending on how secure the relationship is, or how secure the people in it are.” She gives him a searching look and asks, “Are you different in the way you act because you’re dating someone now? Besides being a little happier?”

His brows furrow, and he answers honestly. “No. I don’t see the point in changing the way I act for the sake of another person.”

Petra nods and asks, “Okay, so why would Eren be different? Maybe I’m way off the mark here, but I think that your attitude just comes from… you know, being _you_. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” she hastily adds at his withering glare. “As for Eren, he seems like he’d keep acting the way he wants to act without bending to anyone’s expectations. He’s a pretty headstrong person, I’ve noticed.”

“More like fucking pigheaded,” Levi corrects her, but there’s an underlying note of muted affection in his voice that he doesn’t quite manage to hide.

The face-painting station that’s been set up for homecoming week in the Senior Lounge is nothing more than a rickety wood table cluttered with old brushes and generic, dollar store paints. Instead of letting a student council member do the work, Levi plops himself down in one of the empty plastic chairs when Petra comes to the head of the line and takes a paintbrush himself, motioning for her to sit down in front of him.

Petra shoots the lone student working the table an apologetic look but takes a seat and taps a spot on her cheek. It’s ‘Tinsel Town Tuesday—dress like a star’, as the posters describing Spirit Week that are plastered around the school declare, and Petra’s made a successful attempt at channeling Marina and the Diamonds.

“I have to say, I never thought I’d see the day when you of all people would worry about asking someone to homecoming.”

“Stop talking,” Levi says tonelessly, firmly ignoring the heat that rises in his face. “Can’t paint shit if you’re moving.” After a moment of gingerly dabbing black paint high onto her cheekbone in the shape of a tiny heart, he murmurs, “Again, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of experience in this area of life.”

“Still. It’s _you_ ,” she teases once he sets the paintbrush down. She motions to it, a silent question of whether he wants anything painted, and he shakes his head, smirking faintly.

“I’m only human,” he says as they’re walking back to the theater table.

“A good-looking human, though.”

He snorts. “You and my looks, geez.”

“Oh please, Levi, you know your ego gets a little bit bigger every time someone calls you attractive,” Petra scoffs, not at all having his judgmental tone. She looks him over and tugs on his oversized wool pullover with a mock-irritated sigh. “It’s not fair, though; you shouldn’t have a better fashion sense than me. Where did you get this?”

“My mom’s closet,” he answers, completely serious. He glances over at her and snaps, “Oh, get that shit-eating grin off your face; it’s comfortable, and I needed something white. I’m going for a classic look today.”

“I’ll be honest with you, the beret makes you look kind of pretentious.”

“Good, almost everyone in Hollywood is pretentious. _I’m_ pretentious. I deserve a fucking award for nailing today’s theme.”

“That’s not all you’ll nail,” she mutters, absently motioning over to the table; Eren is just arriving. Levi freezes and stares at Petra, eyes wide, and her jaw drops once she realizes what she’s just said.

“Did you—”

“No, I—” She chokes off her own words, absolutely mortified, hands flapping in a poor attempt at literally waving away her embarrassment.

“Petra Ral, what the hell.”

“I—It’s because I’m always hanging around you! You’re always making dirty jokes and—”

“Guys,” Levi starts, striding over to the table and placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder. “Guess what Petra just said to me.”

“No!” Petra all but shrieks, darting over and slamming her hands down on the tabletop. Her face is beet-red and her eyes are as wide as saucers. Her voice wobbles when she looks pleadingly at Hanji and says, “He’s trying to make up another embarrassing story about me.”

“Levi,” Hanji clucks, pointing a reprimanding finger at him. “Quit bullying Petra.”

“No, seriously, she—”

“What did she ever do to you?” Eren asks, frowning at Levi. The latter gives him an almost incredulous look at the slightly accusing tone in his voice.

“Don’t make fun of her,” Erwin says seriously, leveling a disapproving stare at him.

Levi meets Petra’s eyes and spots the triumphant gleam in them, and she flashes him a victorious smirk before sitting down and engaging Hanji in conversation, leaving him unable to get another word in.

“Wow,” he huffs, plopping down next to Eren and crossing his arms childishly. “Fucking incredible.”

~~~

“I’ve been trying to figure out why something was different about you all day,” Eren says after rehearsal is over that night. It’s past ten, and they’re walking alone on the stone path that leads to the student parking lot; the waning moon peeks through the clouds. “You took your piercings out.”

Levi compulsively runs a finger over the tiny holes above his brow where his studs used to be. “Just for today,” he says. “I left this one in, though,” he adds before sticking out his tongue. “And the lobes.”

“Yeah, I see them.” He stares. “I was gonna ask before, are those pearls?”

“Yep,” Levi answers, unexpectedly candid; he’s actually surprised that Eren is the only person to question them all day. He tilts his head so Eren can get a better view and tells him, “They were my grand-mère’s; she left them to me when she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Eren says sincerely. Levi shakes his head.

“It’s alright; it was a couple of years ago, so. I guess my whole look today kind of honors her, in a way. She always dressed like a movie star.”

There’s a pause filled only by the sound of wind rustling through the trees as they approach Levi’s car, and then Eren turns towards him and says idly, “I forgot you were French.”

“Only like, a quarter,” Levi responds, unlocking the doors and climbing in. “On my dad’s side—my grand-mère was one hundred percent French, though. She was born in Paris and lived there for a long time before she immigrated here and met my grandpa.”

“Tell me more about her?”

It’s easy for Levi to tell that Eren—being as open as he is—is genuinely interested in what he’s asking about, and his own face freezes, indicative of the fact that he’s trying not to let on how off-guard the question catches him. For whatever reason, Eren sincerely wanting to know about his family—his grand-mère specifically, because she was absolutely wonderful—makes it a struggle to form words, a sudden tightness in his chest choking them off before he can even open his mouth.

Levi glances down and fiddles with his keys for a while before he starts the car and begins with, “Well, she was pretty fucking great.”

Levi feels strange, in a way, talking so openly about his grand-mère, and he attributes that both to the fact that his family isn’t something that he often gets asked about, and also that the topic of his grand-mère is particularly meaningful to him. Eren, though, isn’t someone that Levi minds sharing these details with, and if he’s being honest with himself, he likes the feeling of knowing that someone who matters to him is interested in learning more about other people who are important to him. So Levi tells him about her—her poise, her wit, and her career when she’d been a fairly well-known woman.

“Marie Rigaudière?” Eren says carefully, managing to not completely butcher the pronunciation.

“Yep. I didn’t expect you to recognize the name,” Levi responds, turning onto Eren’s street. “Grand-mère was really only close to famous when she was young, decades ago. Plus, it was overseas and not here, so.”

 “An opera singer, though. That’s incredible; she sounds really cool,” Eren says, and Levi gives him a faint smile. “Do you think she would’ve liked me?”

“Absolutely not,” Levi snorts. At Eren’s surprised expression, he smirks wryly. “You would have driven her batshit insane with your inability to think before you speak. Plus, she’d complain about how sloppy you look; did you even try today?” he teases, reaching out and tugging at the sleeve of Eren’s slightly rumpled flannel.

“Hey,” he laughs, swatting Levi’s hand away. “I don’t do the Spirit Week thing.”

Levi chuckles, watching Eren out of the corner of his eye. “She’d probably respect you, though,” he says once the car’s parked. “For your talent and determination. And for me, because she loved me.”

“Favorite grandchild?”

“Only grandchild. She spoiled me rotten.”

“That explains a lot,” Eren deadpans, and Levi throws him a caustic look.

“Watch it, you little shit,” he mutters, lips twitching up at the corners. He stops Eren from getting out of the car with a quick hand on his elbow. “Let’s do something tomorrow; we don’t have practice,” he says, unexpectedly finding himself a bit too tense with nerves to even make it a question like he’d intended. Luckily, Eren beams at him and nods in agreement.

Levi takes a moment longer to watch him go before he heads for home, keeping the radio off for once; sometimes, planning is done better in silence, and he might not know a lot about being in a relationship, but he knows enough to understand that asking someone to homecoming is supposed to be a big deal.

If only had a clue how to go about it, though.

~~~

 _Maybe you should buy him flowers,_ Erwin texts him Wednesday afternoon, and it’s with Herculean effort that Levi manages to not fling his phone out of the car window. He’d been in a good mood most of the day after finding out that—despite the theater program’s best efforts—he hadn’t gotten enough votes to be elected to homecoming court, and he’d felt like celebrating more than ever. That had lasted all of a couple of seconds until he remembered that he’d asked Eren on a date to ask him to homecoming—and he still had no idea how to go about the latter.

He glowers at his phone; Erwin isn’t helping. _Maybe you should get hit by a bus._

Levi’s phone chirps with a reply less than a minute later. _You know he’s going to say yes. I know he’s going to say yes. Everyone in theater knows he’s going to say yes._

_Everyone in theater?_

_Well, the people in the pool who bet that you’d be the one asking him. So, basically everyone._

Levi takes a picture of his middle finger and sends it to Erwin just as the passenger door opens and Eren hops in, hair windswept and cheeks ruddy. “It’s freezing out there,” he says, teeth chattering. He wraps his hands up in the ends of a wool scarf that’s his only protection from the autumn weather.

Levi smirks, pocketing his phone and telling him, “If you weren’t a dumbass and wore a jacket or something—”

“It’s still only September, though,” Eren grumbles, but he looks sheepish when he says it.

“Barely,” Levi snorts, pulling out of the student parking lot. He switches on the radio and then turns the heat up, pretending it’s so Eren won’t whine about the temperature more when really, it’s because the sunny smile he gets in return for his efforts is worth an uncomfortably warm fifteen-minute drive down to Main Street.

Eren’s in an unusually playful mood today, humming along to nearly every song and nudging Levi at every red light to join in. He refuses, of course, but he ends up keeping the slightest bit of attention more on Eren’s voice instead of the road. It’s a rare thing to hear him sing outside of rehearsal, and even just idle humming is enough for him to want to capture the moment in his memory for later, so he can revisit it whenever he wants to. When they arrive, though, Eren is less endearing; Levi has to tug him out of the car amid protests of, “But it’s so _cold_ out,” and “Did you _have_ to park so far down the road?”

“I’m gonna fucking strangle you with this stupid scarf,” Levi threatens, yanking on the end of it.

“No you won’t.”

“Try me,” he snaps, but then Eren laughs at him and grabs his hand, and any irritation he feels is at least halved, if not completely eliminated by the way the younger boy links their fingers together and gives his hand an affectionate squeeze.

 _‘Manipulative little shit.’_ Levi heaves a long-suffering sigh and leads the way to Utopia, the little silver bell above the doorframe merrily jingling to signal their arrival.

“I really like this place,” Eren announces once they’ve sat down and placed their orders.

Levi nods absently, fiddling with the little peg board puzzle that’s always placed in the corner of every booth. “Good food that’s cheap.”

Eren laughs like he’s missed the point entirely and adds, “And we had our first date here.”

Levi glances up at him, an amused little smirk playing about the corners of his lips. “Does it count as a date if neither of us realized it was one until we ended up making out on a street bench?”

Eren grins. “Yes.”

“Alright then.”

It takes Levi the ten minutes in between the two of them placing their order and the food arriving for him to shore up some of his vaunted boldness in order to ask Eren to the dance—but in a way that’s meaningful because Petra had told him that things like that are important—and it takes him another thirty seconds in which Eren takes a monstrous bite of his burger and playfully suggests, with his mouth full, that they should play twenty questions for Levi to realize that he’s being stupid. The only thing that makes him feel less like an imbecile is the fact that Eren has absolutely no idea that he’s been practically agonizing over how to ask him to homecoming for the past two weeks.

Yes, this is his first relationship, and yes, neither of them really have any idea what they’re doing most of the time, but Levi likes to think despite all of that, he’s got a pretty good idea of the kind of guy that Eren is. It’s not as though he’s a different person now that they’re dating, and something clicks for Levi, here and now; the only one that’d been making romantic demands of him has been himself, and he almost wants to laugh at himself for being so ridiculous.

Eren is Eren, and the way that he looks at Levi now is the same way he’d been looking at Levi over a month ago—if not a bit more sexually charged sometimes, when they’re alone in his room, not that Levi’s complaining about that—and really, that’s what’s important.

Levi thinks that maybe that’s why, after nearly eighteen years with little more than a fleeting appreciation for an attractive person here or there, Eren is the first one that’s really caught his attention. Eren has never demanded anything from him other than sincerity, whether they’re at rehearsal or all alone, and he’s also never given Levi anything less than that in return.

“You okay?” Eren asks, giving him a quizzical look. “You’re doing that thing with your piercing.”

Levi blinks, realizing that he’s been staring blankly at Eren, barbell clicking away; his little epiphany had hit him like a ton of bricks. He snorts and just manages to stop himself from wincing at his own complete social ineptitude. _‘I’m fucking stupid.’_

“I’m good. Just zoning out.”

He snickers and shakes his head. “Don’t do that yet. You’ve got one question left, unless you wanna guess?”

Eren is not as clever as he thinks he is; the answer to the game is obviously Felicia Day, and Levi’s had it figured out since about eleven questions ago. However, he’s being presented with what seems like the perfect opportunity, and he’s certainly never been one to waste those. “No, I’ll ask. Final question. Go to homecoming with me?”

Eren’s brows shoot up in shock, disappearing under his bangs as he sucks in a poorly timed breath and chokes on his drink, coughing it out onto the table. Levi brings a hand up to cover his mouth, forcing back incredulous laughter only because Eren looks horrified. His face goes pale as paper before flushing a brilliant scarlet as he rips a couple of napkins out of the dispenser and tries to mop up the mess. Levi can’t completely hold in a loud snort of amusement, and Eren shoots him a dirty look.

“It wasn’t that funny,” he grumbles, ears burning red.

“You’re hopeless. I take it back, I don’t want to go anymore.”

“I—kind of assumed we were already going together,” Eren mutters, ducking his head. Levi pauses, fork halfway to his mouth; Eren’s cute when he’s shy, but he hadn’t expected the bashful display so suddenly.

He huffs a quiet breath out through his nose, gaze rolling skyward and the side of his mouth slanting up into a smirk that’s mostly amused but might also be just the slightest bit adoring, and he’s privately grateful that Eren’s missing it by avoiding his eyes. “You know what they say about assuming,” he comments dryly, gesturing at the tabletop. “So that’s a yes, though?”

“Well—Well I mean, _yeah_ —”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 6:30,” Levi announces almost cheerily, clapping his hands together. Eren looks stunned, and Levi decides that he’s having a lot of fun with this when he shoots him a teasing glance and adds, “Felicia Day.”

“…What?”

“The answer to the game: Felicia Day,” Levi says nonchalantly. He’s increasingly entertained by catching Eren so off-guard, and he continues, “I mean, I had it figured out a while ago; you’re not that good at this, kid, so don’t act more and more smug the longer I go without guessing. Makes me want to screw with you, and _that_ ends up with you spitting your drink all over the table. Gross, by the way. I hope you don’t do that at the dance.”

“You surprised me, you ass,” Eren retorts, nudging Levi’s leg under the table with his foot.

Levi kicks him back twice as hard, hiding a wicked smirk behind his hand when Eren yelps. “ _Someone’s_ not getting a boutonniere if he keeps talking like that.”

“A what?”

Levi gives him a flat look. “The flower thing you pin to your lapel.”

“Oh, just say that in the first place.”

“Wow,” Levi deadpans, turning away from him in mock-disinterest.

Eren gives him a purposefully charming grin that he catches out of the corner of his eye; privately, Levi wonders when he’ll ever get used to how boyishly handsome that smile makes him look at the same time that his inner romantic—that he honestly didn’t know he had—hopes that he never does.

~~~

On Friday, Levi suggests to Hanji that they should ditch the afternoon pep rally in favor of shopping, and she readily agrees. While everyone else is filing into the main gym, Levi drags Hanji through the crowd and out into the lobby where Shadis is monitoring the doors. He wiggles his fingers at the teacher in a flippant wave, and Shadis raises a brow.

“Skipping out on the rally. Where’s your school spirit?” Shadis asks sardonically.

“The mall,” Levi replies without missing a beat. Hanji elbows him in the side and makes an attempt at being polite, giving Shadis an apologetic grimace. Levi rolls his eyes and gives her ponytail a quick tug, ignoring her wide-eyed look of disapproval; he forgets that Hanji isn’t as comfortable around Shadis as he is, being involved in crew rather than cast.

“I assume the both of you won’t be missing the parade tonight,” Shadis says, and Levi almost smirks at the firm tone of his voice. He considers asking, ‘ _What parade?’_ but is aware that there’s a limit on the amount of insubordination he can show on a daily basis, and judging by the stern look on Shadis’ face, that limit is fast-approaching.

In a rare show of deference, Levi nods and says, “We’ll be at the village hall by five-thirty.”

“You’ve got an outfit?”

Again, Levi nods; the homecoming parade, he knows, is a big deal for the theater program in particular because it’s a good opportunity for everyone to dress up—getting as close to in-costume as they can without the official costumes—and promote the show. “Hanji’s got a lab coat and goggles for me to borrow.”

“The coat’s going to be a little big, though.”

Levi rolls his eyes at her. “What the fuck ever, I’ll still look better than Erwin. What kind of idiot decides it’ll be a good idea to sit on the homecoming court float holding a hammer? I can’t wait to see how that goes over.”

Shadis looks faintly amused but still seems all too happy to wave them both away with a succinct, “Don’t be late.”

Autumn is fast-approaching, which is something that Levi is exceedingly grateful for. There’s nothing that he doesn’t love about the colder months of the year, from the way that every breath of air is crisp and refreshing, to the warm colors that pervade nature, to the lack of bugs. He hasn’t seen a fly in weeks, and he couldn’t be happier about that.

Hanji likes to make jokes about the fact that he enjoys fall so much because that’s when everything starts dying, but the truth is that he likes the way the world looks in extremes. He can’t pick a favorite between the eye-popping shades of red and gold that the tree leaves turn, or the pristine expanses of snow that blanket every surface outside; he’s simply content with loving both cold seasons as a whole.

 _‘Note to self,’_ he thinks. They’ve stopped in a Macy’s and Hanji’s left him alone to flick through a rack of sweaters and frown deeply at the prices. _‘Steal more of Eren’s big-ass shirts.’_ He grabs a couple of choices and walks into the changing room marked for girls. Nobody’s in there but Hanji, clattering around noisily, so he picks the room next to hers and says, “You’re loud.”

“Jesus!” she hisses, and Levi snickers when he hears a couple of things hit the floor. “You need to start wearing a bell, Levi. It’s not natural to make no sound when you walk; how do you do that?”

“Devil magic,” he answers matter-of-factly, putting on a charcoal turtleneck. He whips it off a moment later; it’s too tight around the neck and irritates him, an involuntary grumble sounding from low in his throat.

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here, right?”

“You know I really don’t give a crap, right?”

Hanji giggles and Levi hears her shuffling around for a moment before the wooden door to her changing room squeaks open. “Okay, I think this is the outfit. Come out here and tell me how this looks.”

Levi slips on another sweater and peeks out. He lets the door swing open and whistles lowly at her, eyeing the tapered black trousers and gold sequined blazer. “For a second there, I almost questioned my sexuality.”

Hanji guffaws and takes that for the high compliment that it is, and Levi makes her wait right outside the door while he tries on clothes. He hears the soft thud of her leaning her weight against the wall, and after a moment, she sing-songs, “ _So_ …”

He gives his own reflection in the mirror a dull look, pausing with an argyle sweater vest halfway down his torso. “What?” is the flat reply. Hanji’s tone is one that she only ever uses when she’s incredibly curious about something and doesn’t plan on shutting up until said curiosity is satisfied.

“I just wanted to ask, how’s the show going?”

Levi is quiet for a while, neatly hanging up all of his discarded choices and taking the cheapest sweater for himself. The door swings open and he gives Hanji a searching look. She’s been his friend long enough to know every aspect of his personality as much as Erwin does, although she doesn’t make it a habit of asking him personal questions because she knows how wary he can be about certain subjects.

Levi’s only mildly surprised at himself when he realizes that theater is still a subject to be a little wary of; even though the show is drawing ever closer to the end of its run and he’s grown accustomed to the way it swallows up almost every single bit of his free time now, he still hasn’t completely shaken off the guardedness he feels, an unwanted leftover from freshman year.

When he still doesn’t answer, Hanji gives him a reassuring grin. “I know we’ve never talked about it before,” she starts easily. “I’ve talked to Erwin about how everything’s going, but I want to hear it from you.”

“And all this time I’ve been jokingly calling Erwin the mom,” Levi quips, heading over to the checkout. He waits until both of their purchases have been rung up and they’re walking out into an open courtyard in the mall to ask his own question. “Does it really matter that much? How I’m doing with everything?”

Hanji blinks down at him, a half-light of some sort of realization in her eyes. “Did you think we wouldn’t care?”

Levi frowns and decides to sit down at the edge of one of the small indoor fountains. He stares down into the water, going over the ways he can answer that in his mind. Coins shine at the bottom of the fountain, tossed in by countless children making wishes. When Hanji sits down next to him, he shrugs at her and says, “It’s not that.”

“Is it cause I’m a crew kid?”

“Now you’re just being stupid,” he snaps, elbowing her. “No. It’s just weird. It’s like instead of hearing, ‘How’s the show going,’ I’m actually hearing, ‘How’s everything going this time around?’ And it’s just weird,” he repeats lamely, voice trailing off.

Hanji nods like she completely understands what he’s saying, and Levi thinks that even though she doesn’t have Erwin’s people skills, the way her mind works is enough to decode people. That’s just the way Hanji is; even if he doesn’t elaborate, she’ll figure out the meaning herself.

“Well,” she sighs after a moment. “I want to make it clear to you: all I’m asking is, how’s the show going?”

He glances to the side at her and sees the squinty grin that she gives him. He snorts at the intentional goofiness and rolls his eyes skyward. “It’s okay,” he says, deciding on the default response. Hanji waits with more patience than he ever thought she possessed, until he nods and decides that this is something that he can talk about. And even though Hanji is one of the biggest motor-mouths he knows, she’s quiet and attentive as he tells her about rehearsals. He starts off talking about how tired he is at the end of every practice and how annoying he finds it all sometimes, especially on the nights when rehearsal goes longer than usual because of a general lack of focus.

They have bad nights—nights where Shadis will yell at the ensemble for talking backstage or the actors for repeatedly failing to take a note. There’s been a night or two where rehearsal goes so poorly that Shadis threatens to end it early because they’re not getting anything productive done. They’d had a night like that in the middle of the week, and it’d been especially difficult because Dieter and Jurgen had been there to see it, and even though they’d grown almost placidly accepting, they were still outsiders and that had made Shadis’ quiet fury even more shameful than it would have been.

“Not like it’s always like that,” Levi mutters, fingers twisting around the handle of his Macy’s bag. “It can be difficult as shit, though. Like, if I find myself copying Neil Patrick Harris and I don’t call myself out on that, Shadis does. I haven’t acted in so fucking long that it throws me off sometimes. Being someone else.”

“I can’t wait for when the crew gets to see the whole show,” Hanji interjects softly. “I bet you’re great.”

“I’m okay, I guess,” Levi says, and he’s serious about that. “It’s not completely there; we still have to do the third act. And then it’s tech week.” He scratches the back of his head. “I feel like we’ve got a long way to go but not a lot of time.”

Hanji nods understandingly. “Everyone feels that way when it’s coming down to the wire. But you have enough time. If you don’t think you’re great now, you definitely will by the time performance week comes around.” She shrugs and punches him lightly on the arm. “As for me, I think you’re great already. You have to be, if Shadis cast you as a lead. He doesn’t play favorites, not even for notorious ex-Sina students,” she teases.

Levi actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. “You sound like Eren,” he says before he can catch himself.

Hanji’s smile turns into a leering grin, and she wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Fuck off, Four-Eyes.”

Hanji cackles and pats him on the back a little too hard before she stands up and checks her watch. “We’ve got a while before the parade. Let’s go to my house and hang out.” She waits for him to fall into step beside her before she says nonchalantly, “Eren’s a really good kid.”

It’s an innocuous sentence. Hanji says it in a way that wouldn’t sound out-of-place if she’d been simply talking about the weather. But Levi can read the undertones, and his heart practically swoops in his chest when he thinks about the words and thinks about the ways he’s changed since he met Eren. Some of the changes have been influenced by Eren’s ever-growing presence in his life, and some haven’t. But he remembers callbacks, and he remembers the way that something sparked back into existence when Eren had challenged him.

“Yeah,” Levi agrees. “He is.”

Hanji grins knowingly but doesn’t say anything more on that. She asks him about practices again, and Levi is perfectly fine to dive right back into that conversation, his earlier apprehension alleviated because Hanji’s really not a bullshitter and he appreciates that enough to know that talking to her isn’t ever going to turn into an intensely private conversation that he doesn’t want to have.

He goes from complaining about all the things he hates—the ridiculously late nights, the way his grades have dipped slightly because there’s not enough time for homework even on the weekends because when he’s not working, he’s dicking around and procrastinating or hanging out with friends—to the things that are good—seeing a number come together, imagining the way the stage will feel when all the pieces of the show fall together—to the things that haven’t even happened yet but he’s immensely looking forward to, like the last number of the show. Part of the reason he loves Dr. Horrible so much is because the ending is one of the most powerfully painful things he’s ever seen, and he can’t wait to perform it, can’t wait to give other people the experience that it was for him.

By the time he’s done talking, his cheeks ache from smiling, and he’s caught in the swell of feeling like listening to Erwin and Hanji, pushing aside his reservations and auditioning, is probably one of the smartest things he’s ever done.

~~~

“Fun fact,” Levi yells over the music, but he still has to stand on his toes to put his mouth by Eren’s ear so he can hear him. “If you listen really close, you can almost hear the three in ten teenage pregnancies happening right now.”

Eren’s fingers give him a pinch at the hips that’s meant to be reprimanding, but Levi can feel him shaking with laughter. He sees his mouth form the words more than he hears him say, “That’s mean.”

Levi smirks and twirls the end of Eren’s paisley tie around his hand. “It’s true,” he responds lightly before dropping conversation in favor of raking his gaze over Eren, not at all subtle about it. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s homecoming, maybe it’s the music—a throbbing, sultry beat—or maybe it’s just that a dressed-up Eren is an incredibly handsome Eren, but either way, Levi’s feeling bolder than usual tonight. He’s not sparing any heated glances or suggestive touches while they dance, and for whatever the reason, Eren’s exhibiting a daringness that Levi’s only used to seeing while they’re fooling around behind closed doors.

 _‘Not that I’m complaining,’_ he thinks, fully welcoming the pleased shiver that runs through him when Eren presses close and lays a soft kiss to the skin below his ear. Levi can feel him smirking, and he lightly smacks him in the gut, saying, “Keep it PG-13, horndog. You better not slobber all over my suit.”

Eren snorts, smiling good-naturedly. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing if you could reach.”

Levi grabs the end of his tie and jerks him down for a kiss just to shut him up, but he’s played right into Eren’s hands, if the younger boy’s growing grin against his lips is anything to go by. Nearby, someone catcalls; Levi flips off their general direction and deepens the kiss, drawing it out more than is necessary just because he can. Eren pulls away, red-faced and laughing, “What was that about PG-13?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Levi says, but he’s rolling his eyes and giving Eren a brief, warm smile.

Despite all his reservations about homecoming—all the reasons not to go, like the fact that people are assholes, and the gym being too dark while the music is almost uncomfortably loud, and really, who _wants_ to be stuck in a sea of teenage angst and hormones where apparently awkward dry-humping and fist-pumping is what passes for dancing—despite all of that, Levi is pretty content with the way the night turns out.

He sticks with the rest of the theater kids, happy to dance on the edges of the floor with everyone else because it’s less crowded and they’re also closer to the refreshments table, not that he’d go over there— _‘God knows how many hands have groped someone and then touched the food, fucking gross.’_ The night is mostly a blur of fast-paced dancing interrupted once near the end to introduce the Homecoming Court—Levi boos when Erwin is announced as King and Erwin laughs and points at him like he’s acknowledging a fan—but also once near the middle, when the first slow song comes on.

Levi almost turns and leaves the floor with the rest of the theater kids who feel like sitting it out, but Eren stops him with a tug on his elbow and asks, “You don’t want to dance?” Levi blinks and remembers that this year, he’s not attending the dance alone but plays off the slip of the mind with a teasing smirk.

“You can’t dance.”

Eren’s cheeks are darker than the rest of his skin is, or at least, that’s what Levi notices in the lack of decent lighting. Eren huffs and forces casualness in his tone when he shoots back, “Well you can teach me, then.” He steps close, hands settling back in a comfortable perch on Levi’s hips. “You like pointing out when I do things wrong,” he jokes, and Levi snorts.

“Only because you’re such a little shit,” he murmurs, but the words are lost in the music. It’s a song he actually doesn’t know for once, and it’s saccharine with its lyrics and music, but he really can’t ignore the way that it—coupled with the way that Eren lays a hand on his back without hesitation, touch warm even through his clothes—makes his heart stutter a bit in its rhythm. Levi privately thanks whatever omniscient being there is for the gym being so dark; at least no one knows that hot color is steadily rising in his cheeks.

It’s kind of funny, he thinks, how his first experience with ‘normal teenager feelings’ is coming so late in the game. But it’s nice to know that he and Eren are on equal ground in this regard, and that blots out some of the insecurity. For now, it’s just them dancing in a quiet corner of the floor; it’s awkward, neither of them really doing much more than swaying in gentle circles, bumping chests when their movement is out of sync until Levi decides to wind his arms around Eren’s neck and press close, face buried against his chest. Eren almost stumbles but squeezes him tight, a silent approval.

Intimate moments are something that Levi’s not used to, but it’s intimate moments that make Levi think that maybe he can understand what all the hype about love is. Not that this is love—there’s a long way to go before that happens—but Levi thinks that it’s one step of what’s hopefully many on a path that he’s already been walking for a while, starting with the day he walked into the auditorium.

Even though the song is playing, there’s a silence between the two of them that affords Levi an interlude of introspection, and he wonders if everyone else on the floor is thinking about what makes them happy with their partner. He wonders if Eren is thinking the same thing. But then he hides a grin in the fabric of Eren’s shirt because, knowing him, all he’s probably thinking about is how to move so he’s not stepping on Levi’s feet.

“I can feel you smiling,” Eren says, and it’s easier to hear his low voice over the softness of the song. “Are you laughing at me?”

Levi pulls back and looks up at him, still grinning. “I bet you’re trying really hard to time the steps right, aren’t you?”

This time he can see the blush, but the way that Eren beams at him is what draws most of his attention. “Shut up,” he mouths. He laughs at himself a little but doesn’t break eye contact, and then he says, “I really like your smile.”

Levi, for the first time, can’t think of anything to say to that—no ‘shut up’, no witty comment about being a sap, nothing. He breathes out a soft laugh and it just makes him smile wider, teeth and all, and he’s positive that he’s blushing now and Eren can see it, and that should be more embarrassing but it’s not, somehow. Probably because Eren’s expression matches his, and Levi really likes what he sees.

To the side, there’s a quick flash, and both of them glance over to see the event photographer standing right there, just having snapped a picture. The guy looks down at his camera before giving the pair of them a thumbs-up and walking away to photograph other students, and Levi turns back to stare up at Eren.

“If that picture ends up on the school’s website, I’m blaming you,” he says half-threateningly, but it’s mostly just to have something to say, to draw back into the private bubble that they’d had before it’d been popped by the camera flash.

Eren snickers. “I hope it does,” he says, and Levi reaches up to pinch his cheeks in annoyance just as the song fades to an end. Eren grabs his face and kisses him, a quick peck on the lips because that’s all Levi allows, but Levi’s irritation with him is feigned and they both know it.

Levi doesn’t shake off the warmth that remains from the dance, and it stays with him until the wee hours of the morning, when homecoming’s over and he and Eren have driven all over town for the sake of joyriding, windows down and the radio on, Levi speeding down wide, empty streets because it’s one in the morning and no one’s around. They get McDonald’s and eat it at a nearby playground before Levi demands that Eren push him in the tire swing, and Eren laughs and teases him about having the mentality of a kindergartener but the height of a toddler. That leads to play-fighting, which of course leads to making out until they can’t stand the cold any longer; Levi laughs at Eren when his teeth start chattering in the middle of their kiss, effectively killing the mood.

Levi drops Eren off at home, conceding to a clumsy embrace at the door, and he’ll privately admit that the sleepy way that Eren nuzzles at his hair and mumbles his thanks for a great night is endearing, but all he says aloud is, “Go to bed, dumbass. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The lights are on when Levi gets home, and he blinks in bleary surprise when he sees his parents in the living room watching a late-night movie. They turn at the sound of the door shutting.

“Hi, sweetie!” his mother chirps. “How was the dance? Did you have fun?”

“Did you wait up for me?”

His father chuckles, gray eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile as he gestures to his mother, saying, “Deb wanted to know how the dance went, and I wanted to keep her company.”

Levi is more than a little thrown off, absently petting Baby when she lopes over and noses at his hand with a happy whine. “Even the dog waited up,” his mother giggles, looking expectant.

After a moment, Levi sighs softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re being weird. The dance was fine, yes I had fun, can I go to bed now?”

“You didn’t get any trouble from anyone, right?” his father asks. When Levi shakes his head no, he nods in approval and says, “Well that’s good. Otherwise I’d have to track them down and give ‘em the old one-two.”

“Oh God, Dad, stop.”

“What about pictures?” his mother interjects. “When will I see those?”

Levi rolls his eyes and says, “Erwin’s mom took like, a million before the dance, so you can just ask her.” He pauses for a second before adding, “And the photographer guy at the dance took one of me and Eren. You can probably find it on the website when they’re uploaded in a few days.”

Levi snorts at the way his mother’s eyes light up and she claps her hands together, and he privately wonders if all mothers are this giddy about their son’s first relationship. _‘No,’_ he thinks, grudgingly leaning down to accept his mother’s overly-tight hug and his father’s affectionate hair-ruffle. _‘My parents are just weird.’_

The collection of all these things, though—a fun night with friends, Eren, and his warm welcome home—make the night seem almost too good to be true. He’s so tired he just manages to kick off his shoes and discard his vest, flopping down onto his bed that he knows only seems so divinely soft because he’s weighed down by exhaustion. He sinks into the sheets and replays the best parts of the night in his mind, the images flickering behind his closed eyelids as he commits them to memory.

Levi knows that things will only get harder from here on out. It’s not just the impending performances that loom on the horizon—it’s schoolwork, thinking more and more about college, _applying_ for college, looking for a job, finals. All things that he’ll need to start worrying about sooner rather than later, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

For now, though, Levi indulges himself with what’s left of the night before he nods off, preserving all of these good memories for the days when life’s not so perfect and he’ll need them to remember that for every single thing to worry about, there’s another thing to be happy about.

He falls asleep thinking of Eren.


	13. Razzle Dazzle 'Em

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, and after a lengthy moment of thoughtful silence, he says, “Being nervous is completely understandable. But, it’s also irrational if you think about it. You’ve been working long and hard, and you know nobody’s better for the part than you are, or else you wouldn’t have been cast. Just believe in yourself.”
> 
> Levi rolls his eyes. “Thanks a fucking bunch, Oprah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took forever and I'm garbage but I want you all to know that you're all very important to me and I love every single one of you, so thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this. It's a pretty Levi-centric chapter, mostly just to build up steam for tech and performance week, holla. 
> 
> P.S. Levi's dad is named Nicholas and I know it doesn't come up in the chapter but just know that's his name -rolls away-

A week later, Levi’s washing the dishes while his father works at the kitchen counter, and the latter gets up and deposits his dirty coffee cup in the sink.

Levi cranes his neck—his father is 6’5”, something that makes Levi feel more than a little bit gypped whenever he thinks about how the only physical traits he’d inherited from him had been facial features—and shoots him a reproachful glare.

He smiles sheepishly. “You’re already washing them.”

“Yeah, but I’m almost done,” Levi grunts, coming dangerously close to sounding petulant. “Now if I don’t wash _your_ cup that _you_ decided to get dirty even after I started the dishes, I’m going to be ‘lazy’ and ‘a bad son,’” he snarks, emphasizing the critical words with air quotes and deliberately flicking soapy water onto his father’s shirt.

“You can deal with one more coffee cup.”

“You’re not my real dad.”

“Levi!” his mother shouts from the living room. “Behave.”

“How did she even hear that,” he grumbles, turning back to his chores. His father chuckles and takes a seat at the counter, working on something that Levi figures must be tedious like he thinks all business-related jobs are. For all the snappish jibes that he tends to make about him just because he can, Levi still knows that his father takes as much pride in his paper-pushing job as he takes in his acting, so he tries to be a little quieter with the plates and not disturb him. Why he chooses to work in the kitchen rather than in the study upstairs is beyond him, though.

He’s so focused on trying to be considerate for once that he misses the moment that the shuffling of papers stops and that his father starts to watch him, the lengthy silence finally breaking when he asks, “So, how’s school?”

“Fine.” Levi doesn’t turn around and hopes that his father is smart enough to tell that he’s being honest with his response rather than evasive.

Thankfully, his dad gets it. “How’s rehearsal going? You’re getting close to showtime, aren’t you?”

“It’s alright,” Levi says, grudgingly picking up the offending coffee cup and rinsing it. “Tech week’s starting on Monday; forgot to mention that earlier.”

“Take care of yourself,” his father says, folding his arms on the countertop. “I know you’ll be coming home late every night but still, get some rest. Keep up on schoolwork. Eat right.”

“Dad,” Levi interrupts, throwing him a wryly amused look over his shoulder. “I’ve heard you say this to Mom a million and one times before; I think I got it.” He turns back around to hide the semi-embarrassed flush creeping up his cheeks; the concern and care is nice and all, but as any socially inept teenager who has a hard time accepting sudden bursts of affection, it’s also incredibly weird and he tries to pretend that it’s not really happening. “Quit being gross.”

“I’m being a parent.”

“Gross.”

“So how are you and Eren doing?” his father asks, and the complete change of tack, as well as the subject in question, throws Levi off so much that the mug slips out of his too-tight grip and clatters to the bottom of the sink, splashing water up and soaking the front of his shirt.

“Is anything broken?” his mother calls.

“No!”

“Is anyone bleeding?”

“No!”

“Okay, good.”

Levi snorts and picks up the mug again, grabbing the sponge and scrubbing at it vigorously. When he doesn’t hear another word from his father, he rolls his eyes and admits, slightly defeated, “We kind of got into a fight the other day.”

His dad doesn’t actively press him for details, but he hasn’t gone back to work either, and Levi knows that the silence is just an invitation to speak when he’s ready. He rinses the cup again and turns off the water before depositing it on the drying rack and turning around.

He stares at the ceiling instead of his dad when he explains, “It’s nothing big and we’re gonna be fine, but I just wanted some time to myself to think and he wanted to cool down, so we haven’t really talked since—” He glances at the calendar tacked up on the fridge. It’s Saturday. “—Thursday, I guess.”

His father is generally a pretty genial-looking man, but there are times like now when his expression becomes stoic and serious—usually when he’s thinking hard about something—and Levi can really see the resemblance between the two of them. After a little while, his father breaks the silence and asks, “Do you need to talk about it?”

Levi shrugs. “Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” When Levi hesitates, his father points towards the living room and asks, “Should I get your mom?”

“No,” Levi almost laughs. “Again, it’s not a big deal. We were just talking about college.” At his father’s inclined head and prompting expression, he lets out a long-suffering sigh and crosses his arms, leaning back against the counter. “He thinks I should try applying to Stohess.”

The way his father’s brows shoot up and practically disappear into his hairline is both amusing and alarming—the latter because his father actually looks interested by the idea, and that’s all it takes for Levi to immediately start regretting the decision to open his mouth. His father schools his expression, though, into a less enthusiastic but still intrigued look and chuckles, “Is that where he wants to go in a few years?”

The corner of Levi’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah,” he answers, but then the barely-there smile fades. “That’s not why he thinks I should apply, though.”

Levi tells his father the whole story, how Eren had met him in the library before rehearsal and had seen him browsing through college sites. The Stohess College of Fine Arts is, unarguably, the most prestigious fine arts college in the nation and even ranks in as one of the best in the world, in the top ten. It’s a dream for anyone who ever wanted to be a musician, artist, architect, or actor.

Levi had made jokes about applying there, just to see if he could make it in or not. He hadn’t been serious about it—not really. To him, Stohess seems like more of a pipe dream than anything, but he’d forgotten who he’d been talking to, and Eren had been absolutely taken with the idea.

“I mean, it turns out that he’s been planning on applying there since he was in the womb, I guess,” Levi says, fiddling with a dishrag that he’d wiped down the countertops with. “Which is great, and I think he can do it—if he’s as good as he is now, God only knows what kind of theater demon he’ll be in a few years, holy shit. And if he doesn’t get in on pure talent, he’ll get in on pure balls; he’s the kind of kid that would go into the audition room and knock out a bit from ‘Equus’, or something equally fu—messed up,” he manages to correct himself just in time, wary of his mother hearing him. “Just blow everyone away.”

“And you?” his dad asks, and he blinks at him.

“What?”

“Why don’t you want to apply? It’s a big thing, but you know your mother and I would support you, if it was what you had your heart set on.”

Levi scoffs and throws his hands up. “Dad, a lead role in a high school show is a big thing. Prom is a big thing. This is Stohess—it’s like, what if mom got hired to work on Broadway? What would you do?”

“We’d talk about it, and if it was what she wanted, then we’d figure out how to make it work.” He pauses thoughtfully. “And by ‘we,’ I mean you too. You’ve always acted like a 30 year old in a kid’s body, so I think you can handle a mature discussion. We’re having one right now, see?”

“I’m not a kid,” Levi says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, that was just an example; back to Stohess, we both know I wouldn’t get in. That’s what I told Eren. I got expelled from Sina, I haven’t done theater since before freshman year, it’s not exactly a sparkling track record I’ve got.”

His father tries to choose his words carefully, musing over what to address first. “It’s not all about the records, but if we’re going there, you got a great score on your ACT.”

“The ACT is shit.”

“I agree, but if it fools people into thinking that you’re smarter than you actually are—”

“Thanks, pops.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” he laughs, waving away Levi’s indignation. “And you have experience with acting, so—”

“Yeah, okay, ‘Hey, Dean of Admissions, I was Oliver back in an eighth grade show and I really nailed it; where’s my full ride?’ I’m not _Eren,_ for Christ’s sake—”

“Was he in Oliver?”

“ _Dad_ , here’s the point I’m trying to make—“ Levi sticks out his left hand at waist-level, palm parallel to the ground, and then points up at the ceiling with the other. “—and there you go.”

“Alright, alright. Question,” his father begins, clapping his hands together. “Why does Eren think you should apply, and why did you two fight about it?”

“That’s two questions,” Levi points out, just to be contentious. He nearly brings a hand up to his mouth to bite at his nails but stops himself in time with a disgusted scoff; he shoves his hands in his pockets instead. “Eren just thinks that… I don’t know, that I want to make acting a serious thing with my life.”

His father studies him carefully. “And you don’t?”

“It’s not that,” he protests before he can catch himself.  He can feel the back of his neck burning. “I just thought I’d go to a community college, or something in the state. Maybe minor in theater and do something… else. I don’t know. I mean, I’m not Eren, I’m not about to dedicate the rest of my life to something I’m not even sure I can do.”

“And you fought about it because?”

Levi’s face twists into a strange mix of amusement and exasperation when he thinks back on the heated argument they’d had. “I may not have worded it as calmly as I did now. And he thinks I’m being stupid.” He hesitates. “He said I’m avoiding taking a chance on this whole thing because I’m scared. He also didn’t say it so politely. Just so you know.”

“Well, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you afraid?”

“I’m—” Levi breaks off, pursing his lips and wheeling around to stare out the little window above their sink. The leaves on the trees outside have begun to change, deep reds and golds that remind him that it’s already October and big, adult responsibilities are looming on the horizon. His chest tightens, and he can’t exactly voice a denial anymore; it really wouldn’t be true.

“I don’t know, maybe,” he says, wiping at an imaginary spot on the counter. “Acting’s great. Seriously. But I don’t know if I’m willing to stake my future on it, and yeah, I know, I better figure it out soon,” he mutters.

“You have time,” his father says reassuringly. “Not much, but enough. Just focus on the things in front of you right now: the show, your homework—”

“I finished my homework,” he lies.

His father looks skeptical but continues, “Okay, the show, then. And once that’s over, you can worry about college. And your mother and I will talk about it with you if you want. And so will counsellors at school.”

“Got it,” Levi says, but if he’s being honest, he’d much rather just talk to his own parents than a random school counsellor. He turns around and stares at his father, itching for the conversation to be over; he’s just about hit his limit for all the sharing and caring, and he says so.

His father shakes his head, amused, and says, “Talk to Eren soon, too; staying mad at each other never solves anything. You don’t want to let things fester.”

Levi frowns at him. “You’re just telling me that because you like having him around. You and mom. I will never understand that. He’s such a little shit but everyone loves him— _don’t even_ make the joke I _know_ you’re about to make,” he hisses warningly when his father gives him a knowing look.

“Well, you tend to soften up when he’s around, and you know how your mother loves that. You smile a lot, too—that’s nice. I even remember hearing you laugh once. Incredible.”

“I’m never bringing anyone over again. Ever.”

His father turns back to his work at last and starts to hum ‘Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing’. Levi scowls and doesn’t even bother asking him to pretend this little heart-to-heart never happened; there are little to no secrets in this family, so he settles for flinging the dishrag at his father and snapping, “I can’t possibly be your son. There is no way.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

~~~

Levi calls Eren that afternoon, partly because he’s actually taking his father’s advice, partly because he’s bored and has nothing else to do, and partly because spending a few days without saying a word to each other is surprisingly unpleasant and he actually misses talking to him, though he’s not about to admit that. He flops down onto his bed and listens to the line ring on and on, and he’s about to hang up when Eren finally answers.

“… Hello?” His voice is soft but wary, and Levi rolls his eyes at the tone.

“Hey, asshole.”

There’s a suspiciously long pause, and then, sounding a cross of annoyed and relieved, “Hey, short stuff.”

Levi’s fingers twitch around his phone. “I want you to know that I’m not going to hang up on you because I’m the one who called and I don’t want to look like an idiot, but I thought about it. You shit.” He listens to Eren’s muffled snickers on the other end of the line and finds himself smiling at the sound, just barely.

“So… What’s up?”

Levi rolls his eyes at the unevenness of Eren’s voice. “Wanted to talk to you.”

“…About what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and Levi can hear him awkwardly shuffling around on the other end. “You know. About—”

“You weren’t wrong,” Levi cuts him off. “You were a dick about it, yeah, but you weren’t really wrong.” Eren doesn’t say anything for a little bit, his quiet breathing the only indication that he’s still there. Levi’s mouth twists; talking about things like this isn’t pleasant, but he’d rather get it out of the way than dance around the subject for the next few weeks, especially with the show coming up.

“Look, can we just…” He huffs, picking at the corner of his blanket and trying to find a balance somewhere between honest and insensitive. Even though Eren had been avoiding him, he’d looked miserable the one time they’d crossed paths on Friday, and Levi doesn’t like knowing that he’d been partly responsible for that look.

Levi tries again. “Can we just acknowledge that the college talk is one we’re definitely gonna have sooner rather than later but at least hold off on it until we don’t have the show to worry about? And it doesn’t have to be a _bad_ conversation,” he snaps when Eren tries to interrupt. “It’s not like this has to fucking suck. And I don’t want it to.”

“I don’t want it to either,” Eren admits when Levi doesn’t say anything more. “But I think—”

“No, Eren, shut the fuck up for once and listen to me,” he laughs, because of course the kid has to try and put his two cents into practically everything they talk about. “Just put this on hold until after the show. And look, for what it’s worth, I get why you were so mad at me.”

And he does. It reminds him of the first time they’d met, at rehearsal. Looking back, the entire thing gives him an eerie sense of déjà vu. Levi snorts and shakes his head, continuing, “And I’m mad at you for being such an obnoxious little fuck, but it’s okay, and I forgive you. And I was an asshole too, so I’m sorry for that.”

“I forgive you,” Eren says, and Levi knows he means it. He feels a little lighter now, relieved of a burden that he hadn’t realized was weighing on him so badly until it was gone.

“Good,” is all he says. He clicks his barbell against the back of his teeth for a few moments and then asks, “You busy?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go pick you up in like, twenty minutes.”

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? I want you to come over, so I’ve gotta go get you. Geez kid.”

Eren stumbles over his words, taken by surprise. “I—You—Are you sure?”

Levi snorts and drawls, “I’m the one who brought it up, so yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. Besides, the last time we talked, you called me chickenshit and accused me of throwing away my talent, so—”

“You called me a stuck-up brat and said I didn’t know anything,” Eren fires back.

Levi smirks. “Yeah, well, let’s make it up to each other.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and Eren’s voice is significantly rougher than it had been a moment ago when he murmurs, “What’d you have in mind?”

Levi chuckles and tries to disguise just how much that tone has aroused his interest. “Down boy. Keep it in your pants until we get to my room.”

“No promises.”

~~~

“Do you want me to cover that up?”

Levi doesn’t detect any mockery in Christa’s question; in fact, she sounds like she’s trying hard to be nonchalant as she gestures to the obvious hickey on his neck with the foundation sponge. He smirks wryly and answers with a succinct, “Yes.”

Standing behind his chair as he waits next in line, Eren fidgets. Levi meets his eyes in the giant vanity mirror mounted on the wall and quirks a brow at him, and the little shit has the balls to narrow his eyes and give Levi an impish smirk.

Levi huffs and glares at him, but his lips are twitching at the corners. “ _You need to stop_ ,” he mouths.

Eren grins.

October has blown into town with unusually frigid winds and plummeting temperatures for what’s technically still the middle of fall, and with it comes their last practice before tech week officially begins. Surprisingly, Levi’s not as irritated about giving up his last free Sunday before the show opens as he thought he’d be; he’s positive that, if it were for anything less important, he’d be more than a little bit annoyed at having to be at school on a Sunday morning.

Then again, it’s hard to muster up his typical snark with all the energy zinging through the room right now; Levi’s in the backstage area of the little auditorium with the rest of the cast, practically choking on the copious amounts of hairspray clouding the air. It’s early, not even past ten thirty, and Shadis had told them all to be ready for their first quasi-runthrough of the full show at noon, but there’s still a lot to do. Cast members are flying all over the place with cosmetics and costume changes, and the crew is helping out with whatever they can.

Sasha, standing in front of the next mirror trying to curl her hair and eat her breakfast at the same time, reaches around Christa for a bobby pin and asks around a mouthful of Pop-Tarts, “Does anyone else feel like their stomach is about to fall out of their butt?”

“No, but I feel like I’m about to throw up,” Levi deadpans. He grimaces. “Disgusting,” he says, and he aims a sharp kick at her leg when she opens her mouth and shows him her half-chewed food.

She hops just out of reach with a giggle and then yelps when she burns the back of her ear. Mikasa comes up behind her and takes the curling iron out of her hands with an exasperated roll of the eyes. “Aw Mikasa, I’ve got it!”

“No you don’t.”

“Why is everyone crowding over by the bathrooms?” Levi asks, glancing over by the opposite end of the room.

“The Bad Horse Chorus is making a Vine,” Erwin says, stepping into line behind Eren. Eren turns and glances up at him.

“Do you really need makeup?” he asks, and even though the question was meant to be entirely innocent, Erwin sees an opportunity and takes it. He slings an arm over Eren’s shoulder and gives him a smarmy look, flexing his free arm.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I don’t just wake up looking this handsome.”

Levi meets his eyes in the mirror. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m getting into character, Levi.” He glances down and winks. “That’s not all I’ll be getting into.”

Eren’s face goes as red as a fire engine, and Mikasa snaps around and warningly points the steaming barrel of the curling iron at Erwin. Levi nods at her in approval.

“It’s not like it’s the worst thing he’ll be saying about me today,” Eren says good-naturedly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes with a laugh. “I still can’t believe we get to keep that line in, about what the hammer _really_ is.”

Levi scowls at him and waits until Christa’s finished with the makeup before he gets out of the chair and walks over to tug on Eren’s ear. “Don’t encourage him.”

Eren swats his hand away with a deliberate, charming grin—he’s really been spending too much time around Erwin in rehearsals, if he’s learned how to make that face—and teases, “It’s fun seeing you react to it, though.”

“I really have no idea how I’m attracted to you at all; you’re a little asshole.”

“Levi!” someone calls, and Levi turns and nearly gets mowed over by Hanji, who tackles him in a fierce bear hug that squeezes nearly all of the air from his lungs.

He grunts and levels a dark look at her. “Get. Off.”

“I’m so excited,” she sing-songs, apparently taking no notice of his glare but releasing him anyway and patting him down in a haphazard attempt to neaten his appearance. He rolls his eyes but goes along with it, steadfastly ignoring Erwin’s amused chuckle. Hanji bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, clapping her hands together. “I finally get to see the whole show!”

“You’re gonna be watching a stop-and-go runthrough. In a shitty gym,” Levi says flatly. “Don’t expect Broadway.”

Hanji rolls her eyes and waves the comment away, sharing pointed glance with Erwin, who places a hand on Levi’s shoulder and gives it a little shake. “How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, Levi,” Erwin cajoles, jostling him again and earning a scowl. “You can tell me if you’re getting nervous.”

“I’m _fine._ ”

“Levi,” Eren calls from the makeup chair, and Levi glances over his shoulder and meets his eyes in the mirror. _“You’re great,”_ he mouths, and Levi smirks and gives him the finger. Eren’s taken that phrase and run with it, getting into the habit of saying it more to cheer Levi up than anything, even though the original sincerity behind it is still always there. Levi won’t ever admit out loud exactly how much the dumb shit buoys his mood every time he does it, even if it’s just to tease him.

But even so, Erwin’s question _has_ set off a rapid fluttering of nerves in the pit of his gut—a decidedly unwelcome feeling, but even though he’s privately exasperated with himself, he still motions for Hanji and Erwin to take a little walk with him. The pair of them share a look of understanding and follow him out the little side door that leads to the rounded staff parking lot, the crisp autumn breeze raising goosebumps on their arms. Levi bites back a smirk at their simultaneous shivers; he’s already in costume as Billy, perfectly warm in his big, dark hoodie and jeans.

Levi takes a second to watch the cars whizzing by; the streets are busy this morning. Really, it feels like everything’s busy, like the entire world is amping itself up. Nearby on the green, Shiganshina High’s sign proclaims in blocky letters: _Shiganshina High Theater Program presents Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog on Oct. 18 th – 20th. Tickets are $10 at the door, $7 from cast or crew._

Levi draws in a quick breath and says, “I know I was kidding earlier, but now I really feel like I’m going to throw up. I can’t throw up on the school lawn; that’s fucking gross.”

“What’s up?” Erwin asks, and it’s the immediacy but not overly pressing tone of his question that, in a weird way, manages to sooth him enough to gather his thoughts into coherency.

He addresses the biggest issue first. “I think I’m getting nervous.” After the silent gap that follows his words, he adds, “About performing.”

Erwin and Hanji glance at each other, and the latter raises her hands with a good-natured grin and says, “That’s your area, not mine. I’ll be moral support,” she declares, and then she holds her arms out towards Levi for a hug. He scowls at her.

Erwin chuckles and shakes his head, and after a lengthy moment of thoughtful silence, he says, “Being nervous is completely understandable. But, it’s also irrational if you think about it. You’ve been working long and hard, and you know nobody’s better for the part than you are, or else you wouldn’t have been cast. Just believe in yourself.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “Thanks a fucking bunch, Oprah.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“I _know_ ,” Levi snaps, picking at an imaginary spot of lint on his shirt. “It’s easy for you to say; you’ve been in the shows since freshman year.”

“You could have been, too,” Hanji points out, and even though she’s just being factual, it doesn’t stop him from frowning at her. She grins and twitches her shoulders up in a shrug, and he barely stops himself from breathing an exasperated sigh out through his notes.

“I’m not going to say that I’m being stupid or too hard on myself, because I’m not,” Levi says, pointing at the both of them. “So don’t even think of giving me that shit. I’m wondering whether or not I’m gonna fuck something up, cause there’s plenty of time left for me to fuck something up.”

“Maybe we just think—now, take a second to consider this, I know it’s a foreign concept to you—that you’re wrong, and you should have more faith in your talents,” Erwin says magnanimously.

“I don’t pay you to disagree with me.”

“Oh, could you imagine,” Hanji cuts in, nudging Erwin in the side. “Could you imagine if we actually got paid for disagreeing with Marlon Brando over here? Your family’s already rich, but I could live out the rest of my days in comfort.”

“Marlon Brando was almost six feet tall, though,” Erwin says, cutting his eyes at Levi. His voice a little tight with the effort of holding back laughter.

“Alright, King Kong,” Levi fires back, shoving his hands deep in his pockets to shield them from the chill. “First of all, Marlon Brando was a movie actor.”

“Oh no. Erwin, how do we turn it off?” Hanji mutters through a giggle.

“Secondly,” Levi snaps, rounding on her. “If you’re gonna compare me to anyone, it better fucking be Edwin Booth. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the narcissist?” she quips, slinging an arm over his shoulder before he can step out of the way.

He almost sulks—almost—as he begrudgingly allows the action; Hanji’s just a touchy person, and if he’s being honest with himself, it’s not all that bad to have small, tangible reminders like that, to know that he has a whole host of people—cast and crew—to let in on his insecurities. It bothers him how he’s grown more and more withdrawn about the worries that he has—internal things like thinking about why moments in a scene here or there feel too forced sometimes, or obvious things like the pressure of making a costume change at breakneck speed without fucking up a cue. And while he tends to keep these things to himself unless he’s asked about it, Levi’s also aware of how much more receptive theater has made him to others who, before, he would have thought of as prying or nosy.

It’s different now, he realizes later, standing just in front of his entrance in the dark as the runthrough starts. The projector screen above the stage is down, and he registers that his opening monologue as Dr. Horrible is playing but doesn’t pay it that much mind. In the seconds before the lights are up on the scene, Levi thinks about how this is nothing like his brief and ill-fated stint at Sina. There are no snobs to deal with here, no hostilities to field from people who are too wrapped up in themselves to care about anyone else. There’s also no isolation, no secrets, and that’s actually not as disturbing as he might’ve found it in the past.

He feels like he fits. Not in a nauseatingly seamless way where he’s just like everyone else—he’d never even have come within a hundred feet of the program if everybody had just been a carbon copy of each other like the people in Sina had, mindless theater drones obsessed with nothing but a pre-established standard of perfection that probably would have ended up driving Levi up the walls if they hadn’t kicked him out first.

If he had to compare it to anything, it’d probably be something as unflattering as a pair of mismatched socks—the differences glaringly obvious but still accomplishing their purpose. It sounds downright stupid and painfully unglamorous, but it works better than anything else.

‘ _Actually,_ ’ he thinks, hoisting up the laundry bin prop in his arms and preparing himself for lights up. _‘It’s not all that bad.’_


	14. Come On and Slam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Levi,” Hanji drawls, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him as she hops up and down. “Come on, it’s opening night! Opening night!” she shouts, clapping her hands. “You did it, you’re here! You made it. Unclench your butt for like, two seconds, and relax.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh man, I can't believe how far this has come. Hey guys -smooches- sorry this took a long time again, but thank you so much for putting up with the wait. The end of the first story arc is almost here; I CANNOT BELIEVE. I hope you enjoy reading this.

Levi can honestly say that, next to his expulsion, tech week is the most stressful thing that he’s ever experienced in his short life. There’s been more tension, shouting matches, angry speeches, and tears in a handful of days than there has been in all of the weeks of rehearsal leading up to this point, and one of the only comforts is that at least he can take his cues on how to handle all of the hectic bullshit from all of his friends who’ve dealt with it before.

He supposes he should be grateful that he’s even gotten the chance to experience it at all—and he is, really—but counting his blessings is just about the last thing on his mind when he’s averaging four hours of sleep a night and is more often than not running on nothing but Starbucks Doubleshots and sheer determination to make it through the week.

He might feel a little bit better if the state of constant exhaustion he feels like he’s trapped in was brought on because of the struggle of balancing school with theater, but despite the Director Shadis’ advice, he hasn’t done homework since last Friday, and he hasn’t actively paid full attention to any of his classes in even longer—though really, he can’t blame that on the show.

The sleeping in class, though, he can, and he does when Mr. Z bops him on the head with his copy of Hamlet after he’d nodded off towards the end of English. Luckily for him, Mr. Z knows just how hard he’s been working these past few days. It also helps that Mr. Z is pretty laid-back in general, and he figures he’ll just get off with a warning when he’s called to stay after class.

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Levi says as soon as every other student has left; he’s not _really_ sorry, but an apology is mandatory if he wants to get out of there without a lecture. Really, the only thing he regrets is that he’d only been out for a few minutes, because now he feels even more tired than he had before. “Won’t happen again.”

“I know,” Mr. Z says, setting down his book and relaxing into his chair. He scratches at his stubble with work-calloused hands and observes him, face blank but eyes alight with amusement. “You aren’t the first one I’ve had to wake up today. Shadis is working you kids to the bone, I can tell.”

Levi scoffs, “I’m surprised no one’s died yet.”

“I am too, actually, but let’s keep that between you and me,” he mutters, and Levi has to bite back a surprised laugh; either he hadn’t ever realized how funny Mr. Z actually is, or he’s getting dangerously close to crossing into the level of sleep deprivation where everything in the world becomes a joke.

“I know how hard you’re working, but I don’t let these things slide,” Mr. Z continues, leaning over and grabbing a pen and pink late pass so Levi doesn’t get marked down for tardiness. “If you turn in at least a six hundred word summary on a piece of work that we haven’t read in class and its themes by the end of the day tomorrow, I won’t mark you down for participation today, and I’ll even throw in twenty extra credit points if it’s worthy of a B+ or higher. Sound good?”

Levi’s jaw pops open in sheer outrage, and he narrows his eyes but keeps his voice just polite enough to not earn him a scolding look when he asks, “How am I supposed to read something and write an essay on it in one night?”

Mr. Z eyes him sternly for a moment before saying, “As long as we haven’t read it in class, anything is fair game. A book. A poem.” He scribbles a messy signature at the bottom of the pass and holds it out to Levi just as the bell rings. “A play.”

Levi smirks and snatches the pink slip of paper; hauling up his backpack, he responds, “Well that’s just perfect. A-plus.”

“You’re aiming high.”

“No, that was me letting you know what grade you should expect to give me,” he throws over his shoulder, and if he sounds smug, he’s already out of the room before Mr. Z can say anything else about it.

~~~

Thursday night’s rehearsal is undoubtedly the most strung-out one yet; two full show runs, the final practices before opening night in front of a live, paying audience. And despite the fact that they’ve memorized every line, lyric, dance number, exit, scene change, and entrance, there’s still the panicky air of being completely unprepared.

For Levi, this feeling is the strongest just before the end of a scene, because if there’s one thing he’s learned to despise more than anything else about theater, it isn’t even the sometimes hierarchal tendencies—it’s his costume changes.

“Get out of the fucking way, I swear to God,” he hisses as quietly as he can as he darts off through stage left and speeds through the people lingering by the exit, over to where the Bad Horse Chorus is waiting with his Dr. Horrible garb. He kicks off his street shoes and steps into the baggy white pants and almost comically oversized white boots that Reiner laid out for him, tugging up the trousers as he starts to run across the backstage area; Marco holds out the lab coat for him to jam his arms into and snap shut as Connie keeps pace with him and shoves the gloves onto his arms and the goggles over his head.

All of this, of course, the fifteen to twenty seconds allotted while the scene changes, and Levi skids into a casual walk as he enters again from stage right and begins to pace in the middle of the section that is Dr. Horrible’s lab for the scene. He controls his breath carefully so as not to sound winded as the lights go up but doesn’t allow himself a moment of relief for making it in time; instead, he throws himself into the character and the scene and makes a dim mental note to process what he can do to make the change even more efficient later.

Levi does this with every scene; out of all the cast members, his costume switches are the most hellish while also being some of the most crucial—in fact, the only one he can think of being more necessary to the success of the show is Eren’s quick-change in the final scene of the play.

By the time they sit down for notes at end of the first run, Levi feels like he’s done ten laps around the school, that’s how drained he is. The rest of the cast looks much the same; Bertholdt is practically dripping with sweat—Levi surreptitiously scoots away—and Marco, Reiner, and Connie have all whipped off their ridiculous fake mustaches and started fanning themselves with their hats. Petra ties up Armin’s hair in a little ponytail while Sasha simply flops onto her back and tugs her shirt halfway up her torso.

“I’m too overheated to care about my stomach,” she grumbles when someone on the tech crew whistles from high up on the balcony.

Everyone else sprawls out on the floor except Levi—because it’s disgusting and he’s not going to lie down somewhere that’s had hundreds of nasty gym shoes stomped all over it—and Eren, who doesn’t want to get fake blood all over the floor. Ms. Nanaba tosses him a fresh shirt for the second run-through and tells him to go change in the locker room.

“Notes,” Shadis barks when everyone’s seated in front of him. He flips back through the pages of his notebook and briefly scans his hastily scrawled words, twirling a half-used pencil between his fingertips before he tucks it behind one ear and points at Eren.

“Jaeger!”

“Yes sir?” he nearly yelps, shrinking back like he knows what’s coming.

“Don’t. Trip,” Shadis growls, and someone near the back giggles—Eren had stumbled over Levi’s foot during the opening number and had nearly taken a nasty tumble. Eren flushes a particularly vivid shade of scarlet and ducks his head.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “It was an accident.”

“You’re lucky that Levi caught you, but opening night’s tomorrow and we can’t afford any surprises.” The director’s eyes flick back down to the page as he grumbles, “I get that clumsiness is endearing to some, but with a move like that, there’s always going to be someone who wonders if you meant to do it or if it was really an accident, and you can’t break someone’s concentration right in the opening number, got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Levi!”

“Yeah?”

“If he does it again, let him fall. Since when is Billy ever as smooth as the move you pulled saving Jaeger’s ass? If you’re gonna fuck up, at least do it in character.”

“Got it.”

A few seconds later, “Levi!”

“What?”

Shadis gives him a warning look for the sass and says, “Act one, scene three; when you talk about overhauling the system, sound as excited about it as Penny does about the Caring Hands Homeless Shelter. You apologize for coming on strong but it’s not gonna make any sense if you don’t actually come on strong.”

“Got it.”

Shadis turns in his seat and looks up at the balcony. “Mike!”

Mr. Z pokes his head over the railing. “Yeah?”

“Is there any way to make the golf cart look less like a golf cart and more like a van?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.” He turns back to the notes and frowns. “Erwin.”

“Sorry sir.”

Shadis narrows his eyes at him. “You know what you did wrong?”

“Yes.”

“If you forget on opening night and word gets out that you said ‘ass’ instead of ‘butt,’ you know—”

“Everyone gets in trouble.”

“—demand for tickets will go up, but the members of the board will say they told me so and raise hell about not shutting down the show when they had the chance.” Shadis clears his throat and takes the pencil in hand, scribbling something down in the margins of his notebook. “You get to keep that line about the hammer and the penis; don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Kiss-ass,” Levi mutters under his breath. Erwin smiles at him and mouths, _‘Shut up.’_

“Franz! Hannah! There’s only one mic between the two of you; I don’t give a shit if you have to press your faces together to do it, but you’ve got to share it to get your lines heard. Your lines open Act Three and cue the music; get them out there.”

“Yes sir!”

“Braus!”

“Yes!”

“If I catch you sneaking food on stage again, I will kick you out of the show and play your part myself, are we clear?”

“Yes!”

“Armin!”

Levi hears his choked squeak of surprise and turns to see Armin fighting the urge to shrink behind Petra as he stutters, “Y-Yes sir?”

Shadis squints at him and says, “Be bigger. You’ve got the potential to stand out on stage, but if you don’t put all of yourself into the number, all people are gonna remember you as is ‘that quiet kid whose part we couldn’t hear.’ You’re better than that.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “Really bring those harmonies out. Get it together, Arlert.”

“Yes sir!”

Shadis flips the page and then nods and glances back up at Eren. “Jaeger, are you popping those dime bags at the end hard enough? I understand you’re in a time crunch, but you’ve got to look like you’re believably bleeding to death at the end there.”

Eren nods and holds up a few tiny dime bags filled with the fake blood he uses in the final scene of the show for Penny’s death. “I think the stuff in the other ones was too thick to splatter enough, so I’m going to use these for the second run.”

Shadis nods in approval—a rare thing lately, since tech week typically consists of nothing but criticism and tears—and murmurs, “Good plan, get it to work this time. On that note, lights! Give it a second more of darkness after the death ray ‘explodes’ and then take your time bringing the lights up; you slammed them up too quickly this time. Get it to proper brightness in, say, three Mississipi.”

“Yes sir,” Annie calls from the light board.

Levi makes the mistake of being secretly relieved that there were so few notes to give this time around, and all for minor things, when Shadis snaps his notebook shut and says, “One more thing. Levi.”

His only response is the quirking of a single brow, piercings glinting under the fluorescent gym lights.

He’s not expecting the grim look that the director gives him, followed by a severe, “The ending isn’t working.”

Levi blinks and slowly folds his arms over his chest, fingers lightly drumming over his biceps. “What about it isn’t working?” he asks rather than just waiting for Shadis to elaborate like he usually would, only to prevent himself from compulsively clacking his barbell against the back of his teeth. If he starts doing that, it means he’s nervous, and there’s absolutely no reason to be nervous. It’s a simple note, and there’s still one run left to correct it. There’s more than that, actually—the show isn’t until tomorrow at seven, and surely he’s not going to need all that time to fix whatever Shadis is about to tell him needs work.

He’s just too strung-out. It’s normal—expected, even—in the home stretch, or so Erwin tells him. No need to worry; doing so only piles on unnecessary stress.

But then again, Levi acknowledges that sometimes he just can’t catch a fucking break, or maybe his free pass for the day had been used up when Mr. Z caught him napping in class and offered him an easy way out of the penalty.

Either way, he figures he’s probably jinxed himself when Shadis leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees and explaining, “That five seconds of video at the very end of the last number, where Billy stares at the camera, isn’t working. That dead-eyed look works great in the movie, but this is the stage and it just sucks all the energy out of the end of the show.

“‘Everything You Ever’ is huge,” he continues. “It’s the final number. And the last few seconds before the lights go out can’t slow down the pace that’s been set; the key to a good show is ending on a high note. Going out with a bang. That sad puppy look is going to maybe get an ‘aww’ or two from the crowd, but that’s not good enough. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

Levi nods even though no, he has no fucking clue where this is coming from. He gives himself away, he thinks, when he asks, “Hasn’t it worked before, though?”

Shadis starts twirling the pencil again, deep in thought. “Honestly, no, probably not. But now that all of the bigger issues with the show have been resolved, this one is finally obvious.” He scrutinizes Levi and adds, “Then again… There is a chance that maybe I’m overthinking this. Or something about the pace is throwing me off. But humor me and think about something else you could do for the ending. Something that matches the energy of ‘Everything You Ever’ and still shows Billy’s devastation at Penny’s death without being too melodramatic. Melodrama is good in a musical, but this is a fairly subtle show compared to most others, so don’t forget that. Got it?”

Levi’s mind is racing off on other trains of thought so quickly that he almost forgets to reply with a curt, “Got it.”

~~~

Forty-five minutes later, though, he definitely doesn’t have it.

There are even fewer notes this time around, none of them serious, which is cause for immense relief and pride in the entire cast after a near-week of the most grueling work they’ve done yet. All that’s left is the payoff of an outstanding opening night.

This, of course, applies to everyone but Levi, who is about two seconds away from agitating himself straight into an ulcer because Shadis still isn’t happy with his ending. It’s about five seconds of video—that’s all he gets—and while it may not be a lot of time in reality, it’s plenty in stage-time. And it’s not like they can just leave it out, because those five seconds are what’s supposed to deliver one final, emotional gut punch to the audience and show them how truly devastating Penny’s death is to Dr. Horrible. It’s supposed to lift the veil of Dr. Horrible’s phony triumph—his ‘victory—and expose his loss.

Except now, Levi has no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to do that. And Shadis demands that he figure something out.

He strides out of the locker room that’s been empty of everyone except him, shrugging on Billy’s signature hoodie and greeted with the sight of Erwin and Eren just coming into the gym. It’s only 8:15—fairly early for a rehearsal night—and they’d made a quick dash to Eren’s house and back for the latter’s laptop, which has the webcam that’s been used to film all of the video components of the show.

Eren smiles reassuringly when they make eye contact and throws him a little wave before going on stage to set the laptop on Dr. Horrible’s desk; luckily, the crew had brought out the set for Dr. Horrible’s lab before they’d all went home. All Levi manages in response is an absentminded flutter of his fingers with his one free hand; the other is at his mouth.

“I thought you broke that habit,” Erwin says, coming up to him and tugging his hand away by the wrist.

Levi scowls deeply but doesn’t protest. His nails are bitten to the quick, and it makes him cringe just to glance down at them. “Me too.”

“Just—”

“If you tell me to calm down, I’m gonna break your arm.”

Erwin fights back an amused grin—smiling is not the wisest idea right now—and holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “I won’t, since apparently you can read my mind—” Levi growls, irritated, and Erwin almost laughs. “I’m just going to remind you that you know the show and the character better than anyone else.”

“Obviously.”

“So don’t worry so much and figure it out,” Erwin finishes, daring to risk a pat on the head. Levi looks like he’s going to strangle him but doesn’t actually do it, so Erwin considers that progress. “Eren and I will hang around here, if you don’t mind.”

Levi glances up at the stage; Eren’s spinning around in the swivel chair behind Dr. Horrible’s desk. “Why would I mind?”

Erwin hides another smile. “No reason, I guess.”

“Levi!” Shadis calls, walking back into the gym. Erwin waves Eren over to a spot high up on the bleachers where they plan to wait. Shadis quirks a brow at them but ultimately doesn’t mind their presence. He claps a heavy hand on Levi’s shoulder and leads him to the stage. “You’re tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“Watch your mouth,” Shadis warns, no real heat behind the words. “I’m not going to go over why we need to fix the ending again, but to steer you in the right direction, I’m going to ask you this: how does Billy really feel at the end of the show?”

“Numb.”

Shadis nods. “Yes, but that doesn’t work here. It’s not powerful enough. What else?”

“Devastated.”

“Better. Why?”

Levi squints at him. “… Because Penny’s dead?” he fires back like it should be obvious.

Shadis gives him a flat look and says, “Tone down the sarcasm. Also, you’re right, but the answer I’m looking for is simpler. Why is he devastated?”

Levi blinks; he hadn’t expected this line of questioning, and it throws him off. If Shadis tells him the answer is simple, then that means that of course he’s going to try to overthink things to find out what should be obvious. He tries again. “Because he loves Penny.”

Shadis waves his hand in a ‘sort-of’ gesture and says, “Right, but simpler.”

“Because…” Levi trails off, eyes narrowing as he wracks his brain. He mind flies through the plot of the final scene. _‘Dr. Horrible thinks he’s won, but then he’s lost Penny. He defeats Captain Hammer and gets into the Evil League of Evil, but Penny was the cost. He’s reached his goal. He’s in the League. He controls everyone. He’s above Bad Horse. He has everything he ever wanted.’_

“You’re overthinking it,” Shadis says when he’s been silent for too long.

Levi almost flinches, startled out of his thoughts. “No, I’m…” he trails off, not even bothering to finish the thought because his mind is right back on the end of the show. He has the answer, he just needs to realize it. Nobody has to tell him that it’s necessary for the show to be a success.

The audience could give them a standing ovation, but Levi knows that his ideas of success, his standards, are hinged so high on perfection that he’s not going to accept anything less. Plus, even though he’d never admit something so grossly sentimental out loud, he wants the perfect show for everyone else in the cast and crew just as much as he wants it for himself.

 _‘Dr. Horrible has everything he ever wanted,’_ he thinks. And then he stops, eyes going wide, and when he hears Shadis’ soft snort of amusement, he knows that he’s got it. “He has everything he _talked_ about wanting,” Levi says haltingly.

Shadis crosses his arms, eyes glinting. “Go on.”

Unintentionally, Levi’s gaze slowly slides past Shadis, to the top of the bleachers. Eren is laughing at something Erwin is saying, and then his attention is back on the stage. He’s fidgeting again, knees bouncing and hands tapping an idle rhythm on his lap. He beams when he looks at Levi.

Levi nods once, slowly; he’s got it. And Shadis is right, because it is simple. “He lost everything he ever wanted. And he only realized it when it was too late.”

Shadis’ eyes are practically blazing now, his face more serious than it’s been all week—and that’s saying something. He jabs a finger at Levi and commands, “Show me that. I need to see the realization. I need to see a broken man.” He turns and starts heading down the steps that lead off the side of the stage. “I’ll be over there with the busybodies,” he grunts, gesturing to the bleachers. “If they’re not going to go home, then I’m sure I can think of a few more notes to keep them busy. Call me over when you’re done.”

Levi doesn’t really have a problem with other people being in the room; he’s basically performing for nothing but the camera, but he’s still the smallest bit grateful that Shadis is going to distract them. He has the feeling that these five recorded seconds of his time are going to be incredibly personal, so he tries to psyche himself up for it.

‘Everything You Ever’ is a big number, as it should be, because it’s the close of the show. If Levi had thought Pixis had outdone himself with the beautiful choreography of ‘Penny’s Song,’ then ‘Everything You Ever’ is nothing short of mind-blowing. The music, the lights, the costumes, and the staging—all of it comes together seamlessly to end the show with a bang; Levi has been looking forward to it all week, though he’s not going to admit it out loud.

Levi remembers the first time he’d seen the movie with Hanji and Erwin; the only words out of their mouths as soon as the credits rolled had been, “Holy shit.”

Levi flops down in the swivel chair and stares at the laptop; the webcam is on, and all he has to do is click the record button. _‘Five seconds,’_ he thinks, wheeling from side to side and drumming his fingers on the desktop. _‘Five seconds to leave them with something that’ll make them say holy shit.’_

It’s an unexpectedly tall order, to take something that’s already pretty powerful and add to it, to build it up even more. He feels himself letting go of the high expectations—both his own and Shadis’—and slipping back into the character, the lost, lonely guy with everything in the world except the one he wanted most. His fingers relax—his whole posture, actually—as he draws in a steadying breath and lets himself think, lets himself feel, and lets himself be.

_‘What would I do if it were me? If the person I loved was gone and it was my fault?’_

His eyes close while his mind wanders to family members first, but he waves that train of thought away before it can really get going; familial love is powerful, but it’s not the same as romantic love, and this is about romantic love. First love.

Levi slowly opens his eyes and finds them drawn back up to the bleachers. He doesn’t pretend he’s not staring.

It takes him a minute of wondering if going down this road is a good idea—does he really want to think about things like this?—and a second to decide that yes, it is.

Acting isn’t about faking, so he might as well take a risk.

Nobody ever got results by playing it safe all the time, after all. And now he knows what he can do.

~~~

They’re all out of there before nine, after Shadis takes one look at the recording and then stares at Levi like he’s seeing him in a whole new light.

“Perfect,” is what he says. His tone is brusque—can’t sound like he’s happy to give a compliment every once in a while, lest students start spreading rumors about how he’s not actually as scary as he looks—but it’s still approval. Levi doesn’t let it inflate his ego, though, because he doesn’t need Shadis to tell him what he already knows.

And then Levi glances at Eren and says, “Actually, I have one more idea.”

It takes thirty seconds to explain, five for Eren to question him, two to tell him to shut up, and a minute of contemplation before Shadis gives a one-shouldered shrug and says, “That sounds fine.”

Levi just barely manages to bite back a grin. He wants to save all his energy for opening night, so he resolves to not get too excited just yet.

He still breaks the speed limit on the way home, though, music blasting out the open windows through the entire ride.

~~~

The eight hours of school Levi has to deal with the next day barely even seems like reality; the true start of his day comes at 3:30 in the afternoon as he kicks open the door to the backstage area of their little auditorium and being greeted by the loud voices of his castmates and the smell of frying hair and enough hairspray to choke an elephant.

“Did you seriously take home all of your costumes and wash them?” Ymir laughs when she spots the huge bin in his arms.

Levi scowls and sets it down in an empty corner by the bathrooms, whipping off his shirt and pulling out a fresh one. He makes a show of putting it on and straightening it before he gives her a pointed look and the finger, snapping, “If I’m going to get all gross and sweaty, at least I’m going to do it in some clean fucking clothes.” He raises his voice just enough to be audible for the room at large when he adds, “Dumping an entire can of Febreeze on it doesn’t mean that it’s clean.”

“If the audience can’t smell it,” Jean cuts in, waving around a half-empty bottle of said air-freshener, “I think you’re good.”

“Sick.”

“Could you imagine if he’d actually joined up back in freshman year? Hearing him whine like that for four years?” Hanji giggles, coming up behind him and poking him in the small of his back. Erwin towers over both of them.

Levi whips around and yanks her ponytail. “I’m not whining, I’m criticizing. Just because everyone else is a slob, doesn’t mean I have to be one.”

“Levi,” Hanji drawls, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him as she hops up and down. “Come on, it’s opening night! Opening night!” she shouts, clapping her hands. “You did it, you’re here! You made it. Unclench your butt for like, two seconds, and _relax_.”

He gives Erwin a dirty look for laughing and says, “This is as relaxed as I’m going to get exactly _because_ it’s opening night. You’re lucky I haven’t thrown up on you yet. Where’s Eren?”

Hanji hums a little note under her breath as she ruffles Levi’s hair and them immediately moves to fix it. Erwin points over Levi’s shoulder and answers, “Over by Christa.”

Levi nods, smacks Hanji’s hand away, and walks over. Eren grins when he spots him in the mirror. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says before nodding at Christa. He holds out his hand and says, “I’ve got it.”

She gives him a tiny smile—it occurs to him then that out of all the freshman, she’s the only one who’s never been startled when he speaks to her—and hands him the straightener she’s been using before going off to help Mina fix her hair.

Levi grabs a section of Eren’s hair—it’s soft and fluffy between his fingers, so when he clamps the straightener on it near the root and starts to work, he comments, “You washed your hair today.”

Eren narrows his eyes at him in the mirror. “When you say it like that, you make it sound like I have a habit of not showering or something.”

Levi snorts and lets the newly-straightened strands flutter back down to rest against the nape of his neck. Briefly, he wonders if Eren’s going to cut it all off as soon as the show’s over; he really does look good with long hair. “You have the kind of hair that I can tell if you’ve washed that day or not.”

Eren hums noncommittally and lets a few moments of silence go by, still watching Levi in the mirror. “Why are we talking about my hair?”

Levi doesn’t look up from his work when he admits bluntly, “I’m distracting myself from things. Your hair seemed like as good a topic as any.”

“Ah,” is all Eren says. And then, “I know everybody gets nervous, but you never seemed like that kind of person. You look so calm a lot of the time.”

Levi clicks his tongue and says, “I’m just better at hiding it than most people. Stop fidgeting; if I burn your ear off, it’s your fault.” Eren snickers, which just makes his shoulders shake, and Levi bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from joining in; Eren’s laugh is infectious. “Speaking of nerves, you seem pretty calm yourself. For a freshman.” He meets Eren’s eyes in the mirror and allows himself a faintly mocking smirk. “A newbie.”

Eren smiles and holds up a hand; the gesture confuses Levi for a second until he spots it—Eren’s trembling, faint but noticeable if you’re aware enough to look for it.

“Oh that’s adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“I said don’t move.”

“I won’t move if you shut up.”

Levi lightly taps the back of his head with his open palm and says, “You’re not too bad at hiding it yourself.”

Eren’s eyes dance as his cheeks flush from the mild praise. “Well, I learned by paying attention to you. So thanks for being a good teacher.” When Levi rolls his eyes, Eren’s smile fades a bit, and he sits up a little straighter in the chair. “I have a lot to thank you for, actually.”

Levi can feel the back of his neck warming, but he shakes his head and keeps his voice even when he says, “Don’t go getting all sappy on me. It’s a little too early for you to be getting into character, don’t you think?”

“I’m serious,” Eren snaps, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “These past few weeks have been crazy, and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have gotten through it without you. I’m really glad we’re acting together. This has probably been the best two months of my life, and—”

“And it’s not over yet,” Levi cuts him off, setting the straightener down and lightly combing his fingers through Eren’s hair. He hopes Eren’s not staring at him in the mirror again, because his face feels like it’s on fire. He’ll never understand how Eren can just s _ay_ things like that with no shame; it’s as baffling as it is a turn-on.

Levi stops trying to make Eren look neat after a while and just resorts to gently scratching at his scalp, leaning down to rest his chin on the crown. Eren hums contentedly, and Levi smiles. “Between you and me, I feel the same. Really.”

Eren reaches up and takes Levi’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together and bringing them down to lay flat against his chest. Levi can’t feel it, but he imagines that Eren’s heart is beating wildly against his ribcage. He knows his own definitely is.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Eren whispers, a playful lilt in his voice.

Levi presses a quick kiss to the top of his head and nods. “Deal.”


	15. And Welcome to the Jam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wills himself to gain control in the same moment that he acknowledges how far out of his reach it is, because he is finally getting the chance he’d been denied of his freshman year—he gets to perform. Perform. On a stage, with a cast, in a play. And maybe it’s in a gym instead of a theater, and maybe their equipment is rented and their costumes are from Goodwill, and maybe Dieter and Jurgen and the football players he knows are in the audience will laugh about it along with everyone else who’s just there for the extra credit they can earn in English class rather than because they want to be, but—
> 
> “Thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoy the show!”
> 
> —maybe none of that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS LOOK WHAT I DID okay I'm gonna be real with you, if you haven't watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog yet, I HIGHLY recommend that you do so before you read this chapter. It's great, it's like 40 minutes long, I'm pretty sure it's on Netflix and I'm definitely sure it's on Youtube.
> 
> Okay okay -extremely rapid and nervous breathing- oh god okay okay here is the thing i hope you enjoy the thing oh god oh god oh god okay.
> 
> P.S. This is incredibly unedited and I will do it later oKAY FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES AND ENJOY I HOPE YOU ENJOY okay <3

“You two look awful.”

By the time six-thirty rolls around, everyone is dressed and made-up to perfection—every single bit of preparation is complete, and everyone waits in the little auditorium, counting down the seconds until the clock hits 6:55 and Shadis comes to take them to the stage.

Levi blinks at Petra’s voice and tears his hand away from his mouth for what feels like the umpteenth time that night. He almost cracks a smile at her—she looks absolutely perfect as a Captain Hammer Fangirl, hair done up in small, bouncy pigtails and a loud yellow shirt with Erwin’s face on it—and he whispers, “Fucking thanks, that’s exactly what I need to hear.” When Petra giggles, he turns away and quietly adds, “I’m allowed to be a train wreck.”

“Yeah,” echoes a shaky, soft voice, and Levi glances over at Eren. His trembling has only worsened the closer it’s gotten to show time—legs bouncing, knees knocking, hands shaking in his lap—and Levi clicks his tongue.

“You look like you’re about to throw up,” he comments, offering Eren the bottle of water he’d nicked from the concession supplies an hour ago. He’s already drunk half of it, but Eren still accepts it with twitchy fingers and a barely intelligible mumble of thanks. Levi feels a little guilty about it, but seeing Eren in such an unhinged state—far worse than his own because he’s good at internalizing these things—is calming, admittedly. He can focus on Eren’s nerves rather than his own, and he’s completely alright with that.

“Eren,” Petra whispers soothingly, leaning over to wrap her arms around Eren’s shoulders and smooth his hair down. “You don’t have any reason to worry.”

Eren lets out a pitiful grunt of dissent, muffled by his face pressed into her shoulder.

She tries not to laugh, since she remembers how she’d been handling opening night jitters right before her first big show; she’d been just as wracked with nerves as Eren is now. “Have faith in yourself.”

“Easier said than done,” is his reply, and Levi rolls his eyes and scowls at him, roughly knocking the toe of his sneaker into the other boy’s ankle. Eren hisses in pain and looks up at him.

Instead of the fiery, challenging gaze he’d been aiming to get out of Eren, all he sees is wide-eyed confusion and worry. Levi kind of hates that. “If you’re not going to believe in your own abilities, how is anyone else supposed to?”

Eren frowns. “What?”

Ignoring Petra’s reproachful look—just because she’s the mothering type and has a tendency to baby everyone, especially new kids like Eren, that doesn’t mean that Levi’s method of handling this situation is going to be remotely similar—he says, “A show isn’t a success because of individual effort.”

Theater is something that will always be about the collective, because there is no such thing as a one man show. Trust is the name of the game, though it’s not something often repeated, but maybe that’s just because it’s obvious. Trust is necessary between an actor or actress and their castmates—trust to be at their entrances on time, get their cues right, get their lines right, get their costume changes right. And of course, trust to rely on each other to make snap decisions that can produce the best possible outcome when one of those things doesn’t go right.

And it all extends even further than that; the cast has to believe in the crew, to have faith that crew will build the best possible set, that tech will get the light cues right and know when the actors are all on stage when they should be, and when they aren’t. There’s more to a show than what the audience sees on stage; they’re presented the end product of months of hard work and dedication, to both the actual performance and the people who’re making it possible.

Levi explains this to Eren in not so many words, whispers it in his ear and lays a firm hand on his knee to put an end to the incessant bouncing. Thinking about this the way he is, Levi feels so scattered that he’s almost certain he’s making no sense, but he sees clarity flickering to life in Eren’s eyes despite that. And he knows Eren’s taking his words to heart when the stress begins to gradually unwind from his posture, shoulders sliding down as he relaxes and his breath comes a little easier.

Petra sends them both a smile and gives them a pat on the head. Levi shoots her a narrow-eyed look of annoyance and tells her not to mess with his hair; she pokes him in the shoulder and fires back a retort that the Dr. Horrible goggles will do worse damage than she ever could before waving goodbye and skipping back over to where the rest of the Captain Hammer Fanclub waits.

Levi glances back over at Eren and finds him staring at the floor; he’s physically here, but Levi can see by the look in his eyes that his mind is far away, so he doesn’t say a word and chooses to stare at the clock up on the far wall, the minutes steadily ticking away and drawing the show ever closer.

Bit by bit, the room starts to go quiet; where there was still hushed chatter and an air of excitement before, at ten ‘til, there is nothing but silence and steely determination in every face he sees. The energy is different now. Before, it was bouncing off the walls and zinging through the air, uncontrolled like the spark that sets off a blaze. Nobody’s burned out, though; it’s only contained, internalized, and Levi feels it locking up his body, pumping through his blood and ready to blast him through the performance of his life like an unstoppable force of nature.

He’s never been more ready.

“Levi.”

Eren’s voice is so quiet that Levi almost wonders whether he’d even spoken. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn to look at him, but acknowledges him with a low, “Hm?”

He hears Eren breathing, loud in the moments of pause that follow, but clearly lacking the shaky hitch he’d had minutes ago. He sounds steady, and that makes Levi’s heart swell with a few too many emotions to name all at once, but the frontrunner is unmistakable pride.

“Do you remember that one time we were all at Erwin’s house? The _first_ time,” he clarifies, letting out an exasperated huff when Levi gives him an annoyed look and makes to point out that they’ve been at Erwin’s house plenty of times. “Do you remember how I was worried back then?”

“Of course,” Levi replies easily, biting back a smirk. He can’t quite manage to tone down the mocking in his voice when he murmurs, “Squirrely as shit and terrible with people. Never thinking things through.”

“Shut up,” Eren fires back, elbowing him in the side. He winces apologetically when someone shushes him and lowers his voice. “I just wanted to say that you were right.”

“About?”

“About how you said I was going to be fine.” There’s another beat of silence before Eren sneaks a glance at him and wryly adds, “Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.”

Keeping his composure is surprisingly difficult. “I don’t need your permission, you know.”

“You’re waiting for it anyway.”

Eren’s tone at that strikes him right in the space behind his ribs, and Levi pretends that affection is definitely not coloring his own voice as warm as a stage light when he chuckles and says, “I told you so.” He smirks. “Dumbass.”

Eren grins at him, and there are no more words after that. It’s quiet when Shadis opens the doors to the auditorium at 6:55 on the dot and intones, “It’s time.” The cast is more orderly than they’ve ever been, rising together from wherever they’d been waiting and filing out the door one by one.

The three mains are the last to exit, and Levi feels Erwin clap a heavy hand on his shoulder as they make their way down the long hall to the back entrance of the big gym, which leads backstage. “Break a leg,” he says.

Levi quirks a brow at him and replies, “Back at you.” Erwin chuckles and nods before he opens the ugly blue door with flaking paint chips that’s the entrance to what will be the most important hour or so of their lives.

Levi is privately grateful for the gesture, but the comfort of it doesn’t reach him; fuck butterflies—it feels like there’s an angry hive of wasps buzzing in the pit of his gut, riled beyond belief and far out of the range of any sort of calming action at all.

He grabs Eren’s wrist when they’re backstage in the pitch dark, just before the latter goes off to his entrance on the other side of the stage. He’s about to make some snarky comment about trying not to throw up onstage, something redirect his focus away from his own nerves, and is completely caught off guard when Eren moves in close and wraps his arms around his waist. Levi sucks in a sharp breath of surprise, catching the faint scent of fabric softener, fresh and pure, lingering on the light copper-colored cloth of Penny’s scarf.

Eren nuzzles Levi’s hair, a soft sigh humming in the back of his throat. “Good luck,” he murmurs, every bit as earnest as he’s always been.

Levi feels the back of his neck warm both because of the tenderness in Eren’s embrace and his voice, but all he says is, “You’re giving me bad luck unless you say ‘break a leg,’ asshole.”

Eren huffs an amused snort through his nose and squeezes Levi briefly before pulling back, eyes shining even in the near-blackness of the backstage area. “Maybe I’m resorting to dirty, superstitious tricks so the audience will like me more than you.”

Levi’s eyes narrow, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fat fucking chance.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Are you accepting it?”

“I can handle anything you throw at me,” Eren whispers, fiery and low, right before he grabs the collar of Levi’s hoodie and jerks him in for a quick kiss that practically bruises with its overenthusiasm.

It turns Levi on far more than he’ll ever be willing to admit. He grabs Eren’s chin, fingers unforgiving as they squeeze the frame of his jaw. Levi teasingly retaliates, “Quit stealing my lines.”

“I’m better at saying them than you are anyway,” Eren quips, flashing Levi a smile that’s equal parts winning and smug before he whispers, “See you out there,” and disappears off to the other side for his entrance.

“That’s cute,” someone whispers sardonically, and Levi glances over to see Ymir leaning against the wall with Christa and Annie, the former of which is trying to shush her.

“Kiss my ass,” Levi mutters, leaving Ymir cackling as he goes off to wait in the wings by his entrance. There’s a small crowd of the ensemble waiting there too; nobody actually goes onstage until the few seconds of blackout after Dr. Horrible’s first video blog entry is over. Right now, the house lights are still dimly on, and the murmur of a packed house is audible.

“I knew there’d be a lot of people here,” Armin whispers, trying to lean back from the curtain and remain unseen. “But it’s still kind of scary to think about. That everyone’s going to be watching.”

“I know what you mean,” Mina says, nervously twisting her pigtails.

Franz holds up his trembling arms and shakily laughs, “I can’t make it stop.”

“Just take deep breaths,” Jean says. He’s already been around for a year, and while he’s no stranger to opening night nerves, he knows by now how to channel them into the proper energy. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Being nervous is fine, as long as you stay focused.”

“You need to be nervous so you won’t get cocky and fuck up,” Levi adds quietly, glancing down to check the mic box clipped to his pants; the green light isn’t on, but he’s seen shows here where someone thought their mic was off when it wasn’t and said something the audience shouldn’t have heard. Any moment now, the lights will dim and Shadis will give the opening speech. Levi’s heart feels like it’s vibrating in his throat.

Sure enough, the din of the audience starts to dim before it fades away completely, as do the house lights; everything is black. There’s a strained hush that ripples over everyone backstage—no sound except that of everyone trying to catch their breath.

“Good evening,” Shadis’ voice booms, amplified by the microphone that he must be holding. Levi tries to pay attention to what he says—thanking everyone for coming, proper audience etiquette, a blurb about the show—all of it standard stuff, but he can’t bring himself to focus on the words themselves. All he’s really capable of is cataloguing the feeling of his chest rising and falling with each steadying breath, heart knocking against his ribs like the pedal of a kick drum.

He wills himself to gain control in the same moment that he acknowledges how far out of his reach it is, because he is finally getting the chance he’d been denied of his freshman year—he gets to perform. Perform. On a stage, with a cast, in a play. And maybe it’s in a gym instead of a theater, and maybe their equipment is rented and their costumes are from Goodwill, and maybe Dieter and Jurgen and the football players he knows are in the audience will laugh about it along with everyone else who’s just there for the extra credit they can earn in English class rather than because they _want_ to be, but—

“Thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoy the show!”

—maybe none of that matters.

There’s a flurry of excited whispers between everyone backstage as the crowd claps for Shadis and then falls silent once again. The drumroll sounds before the pit band plinks out the first few notes of Dr. Horrible’s theme, and then there’s a hum and everybody steps further back into the wings as the projector screen suspended high above the stage flickers to light, bringing up the opening video blog of the show.

Levi hears the audience chuckling at his opening lines, and some of his castmates give him amused looks and have to muffle snickers of their own—even now, apparently it’s still surprising that he’s capable of so much more than a chronic bitch face, but he doesn’t mind. Sometimes he surprises himself, too.

Like with Eren. And he should probably be thinking of himself as Billy and Dr. Horrible and Eren should be Penny, but Levi knows exactly what it’ll take to get himself in character and musing about how absolutely fucking ridiculous he is about a bright-eyed freshman with a habit of being too headstrong and running his mouth off without thinking is what will ground him in Billy’s character.

Because while Billy is infatuated with Penny, Levi feels the same way about Eren and it’s absolutely insane. It’s crazy. It makes absolutely no sense that a kid with just about as much experience in theater as he has can just blast into his life with all the grace of a baby elephant, tell him off for his supposed lack of passion, and completely tip every single reason he’d stayed away from theater on its head with no warning and no apologies.

 _“You always say in your blog that you will show him the way,”_ the video plays. Everyone readies for their entrance. _“Show him you are a true villain.”_

Eren is brilliant. Fucking stupid and fucking brilliant. And through these months of grueling practice, days that make him want to tear his hair out and make him wonder why he’d ever tried out in the first place, why he’d ever given in to Eren’s challenge that day at auditions instead of coasting through with disinterest like he’d planned to, he’s learned the reason for this.

Eren is a force of nature, and Levi’s seen that every single day since auditions. What he lacks in experience, he makes up for with the explosive energy that he throws into every single practice, every single run; he’s earnest and charming and draws everyone that watches him in like moths to a flame, and that’s why Levi had been so sure that yes, of course he would be okay—how could he not be? Eren was meant for the stage.

And Levi craves that. Levi craves the chance that Eren’s giving him, which is the opportunity to be able to act—well and truly act—with someone whose passion is on par with his own, even if Eren’s is a lot more obvious. Someone who understands him—who’d understood him from the first moment they’d met without even realizing it.

And really, that’s all Levi wants. He wants to let go of everything else—fuck Sina, fuck them, fuck himself, fuck everyone who’s ever let him believe that he wasn’t meant to do this, who’d kept him from doing this—and just _act_. For Levi, acting is everything—it’s like jumping into the eye of a storm and letting the winds take him, getting swept up and leaving nothing behind. Having someone who understands that, who can match that, who can _push_ that. That’s what Eren is. And that’s all he wants.

_“Who is ‘he,’ and—”_

All he wants—

_“—does he even know… you’re…”_

—is to see Eren.

And then it’s lights down and everyone’s moving as the scene changes and the opening notes of ‘My Freeze Ray’ ring out. Lights up. And he’s there.

For some, it’s difficult to overcome self-awareness onstage—the urge to glance out into the audience and look for reactions is strong in moments of inactivity. But Levi doesn’t need to see anyone else. He doesn’t need to see if the football players are being dicks or are actually paying attention. He doesn’t need to see his parents in the front row, beaming proudly as they watch, seated right next to the Jaegers. He doesn’t need to see the directors sitting off to the side, no longer absorbed in recording every mistake for notes to give later.

Levi doesn’t need validation from anyone, not tonight. Not from the audience, at least. All he needs is to see Eren, wearing Penny’s costume but still smiling at him with the same look in his eyes that he’s always had. That’s enough to ground Levi in the performance.

One of the biggest reasons that people act is because they want to be someone else for a change. Levi understands that; for a long time, he’d wanted that. It’s an appealing concept, to be able to escape from his own world, sometimes remarkably shitty, and live a new life, if only for an hour or two.

But now, Levi isn’t acting because he doesn’t want to be himself. He’s acting because he wants to pour all of what he has, all of his emotion and dedication, into this show. And he does—with every scene, he gives it his all and doesn’t leave anything behind but the energy of his character. He’s committed to every line, every look, and every song; everything he does, he does without regret, without wishing that he’d looked a little different, changed the tone, or sung a little louder. He doesn’t need to regret anything anymore.

And some people, like Eren, act because it’s their dream. It’s their life—it’s not just the ability to become someone else, but everything about it—to throw yourself into a role and figure out what makes a character tick, figure out how to bring them to life and resonate with an audience. To convey your own love for acting and make other people fall in love with it, too.

Levi thinks that he’s in love.

And while thinking about that in reality as opposed to in the show is admittedly terrifying, it’s okay if he’s thinking it onstage. After all, Dr. Horrible is in love with Penny. With every scene, every dialogue about his ambitions as a supervillain, there’s the underlying longing for Penny that bleeds into everything else. Levi is okay with putting his emotions out there for everyone to see—it’s okay to be the absolutely lovesick moron that Eren’s managed to turn him into by being so unexpectedly, implausibly yet completely great. The audience will see two characters; Levi is the only one who knows the truth.

 _‘And I won’t tell him yet,’_ he resolves in the middle of the intermission before the final act, draining a much-needed bottle of water as he leans against the wall backstage and watches everyone ready themselves. Eren is off in the opposite corner, stuffing dime bags filled with fake blood into the pockets of his dress jacket. He picks up Penny’s signature scarf and tries to wrap it around his neck, but Levi sees his shaking fingers struggle with the knot.

“You’re going to end up making it a noose,” he murmurs, coming over to bat Eren’s hands away and take the light fabric in his own. He’s gentle as he winds it around Eren’s neck in a loose wrap. He grimaces. “You’re sweating.”

“Stage lights,” Eren whispers, voice shaky. He smiles at the concerned quirk of Levi’s eyebrow and says, “I’m okay. I just can’t believe this is real, that’s all. It’s crazy.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Levi says, patting down the scarf and making sure Eren looks neat. “One more act to go. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Remember the change—”

“I know,” Eren huffs, sounding a little exasperated. He smiles good-naturedly at the warning look that Levi gives him for the tone and leans down to peck him on the forehead. “I know. I’ll get to the mic backstage, don’t worry.”

“Don’t sound too out-of-breath,” Levi warns as a crowd of castmates rushes by; out in the gym, the sound of people filtering back in and to their seats grows louder. It’s almost time. “The effect’s gonna be ruined if you’re panting; sound like a ghost, not a dying whale.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Eren fires back, but he looks invigorated and his fingers have stopped shaking, so Levi smirks triumphantly and reaches up to flick the end of his nose before they split up to go to their respective entrances.

The final act is not much more than twenty minutes, and yet it feels like it both lasts forever and not enough. The forever part is more on Levi’s end, though, since he spends a good portion of time standing on a pedestal at the base of the stage, concealed by a red cloth as he stands perfectly still and pretends to be a statue. He aggressively wills himself not to sneeze; Shadis would absolutely shit if he moved.

Since Levi doesn’t particularly have anything to do for the moment, he takes the time to let himself enjoy what’s left of the show, even if he can’t see it. He pictures it well enough in his own mind, though—especially Captain Hammer’s big number, which draws incredulous laughs from the audience. Levi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing; Erwin really was meant to play this role, and he does it with every bit of the arrogant bravado that no one else would’ve been able to pull off.

The audience is absolutely eating it up, and Levi would be lying to himself if he wasn’t feeling incredibly smug about stopping the number dead and taking it over with ‘Slipping’. So much of the energy onstage comes from the energy of the audience, which is why it’s crucial for everyone to pay attention, and the energy is absolutely on-point right now, everyone in shocked silence as the most sinister number of the show goes on.

 _‘You’ve got to have them eating out of the palm of your hand,’_ Shadis had told them before. _‘They want to be taken in by the story, but you’re the ones who have to grab their attention and keep it.’_

Levi’s holding up his end of the deal, channeling every single bit of venom for the events of his freshman year that he’d kept bottled up inside all this time. Finally, an outlet, and a productive one at that. It’s okay to be angry right now, it’s okay to let his emotions out, and he does.

And the rest of the cast carries their own weight. When the number devolves into choreographed chaos, they scatter, half to the exits and half to the audience as they amp up the energy and project the characters’ fear of Dr. Horrible into everyone else. Levi sees the audience lean forward in their seats when something is building, and he sees them jump back in shock or fear when something big happens. They’re surprised by Dr. Horrible’s darkness, but Levi is doing his job right, so they worry for him when Captain Hammer knocks him to the floor and threatens his life.

Privately, Levi resolves to make sure he gets Erwin back for the immense look of enjoyment on his face as he pins Levi to the ground with his boot, aiming the ‘malfunctioned’ Death Ray at him right between the eyes; his expression looks a little too genuine.

And then the big moment comes. Erwin clicks the little trigger of the prop gun modified to look like the Death Ray, and it flashes; at the same second, tech cues the sound of an electric surge, and the lights flash blood-red before they go out completely and an explosion sound effect echoes through the gym. Everyone screams, including the audience members who weren’t expecting it, and Levi stays on the ground and waits for his cue, which is when the lights come back on.

Slowly, they dim up, and the stage is the picture of chaos.

It’s tragic, but this is Levi’s favorite part of the show. It’s his favorite part probably _because_ it’s so tragic, because what the hell kind of play kills off the love interest and doesn’t provide a happy ending? Levi feels his heart twist in his chest; part of the reason he appreciates the show so much is because despite the hero and supervillain dynamic of the plot, it’s still real in a way that a lot of musicals aren’t.

And there’s Eren—Eren, whose acting at this point is so flawless it seems unreal. The dime bags were perfect; fake blood is splattered all over him, and he truly looks like he’s been hit by the explosion of the Death Ray. It’s just showy enough for effect but made heart-wrenchingly genuine by the way his voice weakly quivers when he raises a hand to Levi’s face and deliriously whispers, “It’s okay. Captain Hammer will save us.”

The gym is so silent that the noise of a pin dropping would sound thunderous.

‘Everything You Ever’ goes off without a hitch, from the two ensemble members wheeling Penny's body off-stage on a makeshift stretcher, to the disgustingly quick costume change that Levi has to dart into the wings to do right in the middle of the number. But everything else is so seamless—the lights, the music, the ensemble, Petra’s backup vocals offstage—that the audience is entirely captivated, sitting on the edges of their seats. When the Evil League of Evil steps forward into the spotlights shining on the floor for their debut, there’s hardly any laughter when they see Jean as Bad Horse, wearing a creepy horse mask and hooves. The dark mood is too real, and it's perfect.

 _‘Have them eating out of the palm of your hand,’_ Levi thinks as he reappears onstage, stepping up onto the pedestal he’d been concealed on before. And he does, hearing the audience’s audible murmurs of sorrow when Dr. Horrible finally wears the goggles properly for the first time in the whole show.

“Now Dr. Horrible is here, to make the whole world kneel,” he sings, and there’s a reaction again as the entire Evil League of Evil turns and bows to him—a change from the film that Shadis had suggested.

And then, soft and ethereal—exactly like Levi had suggested the day before—Eren’s voice echoes from backstage as he takes the final backup vocal instead of Petra, singing, “Everything you ever…”

The audience ripples, hands going to hearts and mouths and eyes opening wide in saddened surprise. The lights begin to dim, but the projector hums to life again, and everyone looks up as Levi sings, finishing with, “And I won’t feel—“

Levi’s face flashes up on the projector, last five seconds of video rolling. All the other lights go out.

“—a thing!”

The audience has nowhere to look but up at the projector, at Levi’s face as he portrays Billy. For a single second, he is wearing the shell-shocked expression that they’d originally had him make. Everything is quiet.

And after a second, his face crumples in absolute misery, and an anguished sob rips its way out of his throat, ugly and harsh and completely devastated as he begins to cry. Then the screen goes black.

For a moment, there is total silence. No reaction. Nothing. And it’s enough time for Levi to start panicking, heart jumping into his throat as he thinks, _‘Fuck. Did we fuck up? Was that the wrong choice? Fuck—’_

The audience drowns out his thoughts, surging to life with deafening applause as they scream and cheer for the cast. People are rising to their feet, jumping on the shitty bleachers they’ve been sitting on, crying out their approval, crying out success.

Levi’s heart jumps again, but this time it’s not out of panic. The applause is everyone’s cue, and he races up the stage and barely makes it back into the wings of stage right just in time for the curtain call; all the lights slam up as the pit band begins to play an upbeat version of Dr. Horrible’s theme, and the ensemble dancers run out to be the first row to take their bows.

“Levi!” he hears right in his ear, and he turns to see the Captain Hammer Fanclub; Petra is beaming at him. “That ending! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Was that you?” she yells to be heard over the applause.

Levi’s lips quirk up, the edges of straight white teeth peeking out from between his lips as he gives her a genuine smile. His face is flushed and his heart is racing; suddenly the exhaustion of performance is barreling down on him all at once, and he’s breathless when he nods and says, “Yeah. Had to twist the knife one more time before we ended it. No big deal.”

“That was so cool,” Sasha gushes, raising her hand for a high five. Levi grudgingly obliges her. “I thought _I_ was gonna cry!”

“No wonder Eren never stops talking about you,” Armin whispers with an almost teasing smile. “That was amazing.”

“Shut up, kid,” he huffs, the corners of his lips twitching as he roughly musses Armin’s hair and then shoves him out to take his bow with the rest of the fanclub. Everyone goes out, little by little, until he’s the last one darting out onstage to bow with Eren and Erwin.

The stage lights are practically blinding in their intensity and the volume of the applause makes him think his eardrums are about to burst, but there’s a honey-sweet warmth that blooms inside his chest just the same, and he wouldn’t have been able to help the smile that breaks across his face no matter how hard he’d tried. Levi can’t describe this moment in words, but he’s suddenly all-too-aware of just how badly he’d wanted it, and for how long.

And afterwards, when they’re all high off of the performance and running out to the school lobby to greet the audience members, Eren catches up to him, throws his arms around him giddily and exclaims, “You were incredible. You were so great.”

Levi grabs him by that bright copper scarf and shoves him into a locker again, just like he had at auditions—except this time he tugs Eren down and kisses him with all the force of three little words that can summarize what he feels for Eren, but he won’t say them just yet.

~~~

The Shiganshina High Theater Program has a closing night tradition called Open Mic Night, and Levi decides that he hates it for two reasons. The first reason is that everyone has to be ready a full hour and a half earlier, and the second reason is that this extra hour and a half of time that they would normally be taking to get ready is instead spent gathering everyone from cast and crew in the auditorium, getting up on the stage and making speeches.

“If you keep making that face, it’ll freeze that way.”

“Fuck off, Hanji,” Levi mutters, arms crossed like a petulant child’s and scowl deepening even more.

“You’re gonna make a speech, right?” she giggles, completely ignoring the dark look he gives her. “Because you have to, you know. It’s tradition.”

“What would I have to make a speech about?” Levi retorts as everyone waits for someone else to go up on stage. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie all stand up at the same time, and the boys immediately back down when she shoots them both a warning look.

“Anything you want,” she answers when Annie sits back down. This time Bertholdt and Reiner race to the stage; Bertholdt’s legs are longer, but Reiner’s quicker and gets there first. “About the show,” she hastily adds. The mischievous glint in Levi’s eyes quickly fades out when she tells him that, his interest waning.

“I don’t think so,” he whispers after a while. It’s finally Bertholdt’s turn onstage.

“You don’t have a choice,” Erwin politely but firmly informs him. Bertholdt is finished and now Mikasa is up. “Seniors are required to do it, because it’s your last musical.”

The phrase leaves a bitter taste in the back of Levi’s mouth, and he frowns again. When Mikasa steps down, he heaves a long-suffering sigh and stands up along with Marco and Connie. He moves to sit back down and let one of them go, but the pair of them shrink back into their seats and Erwin nudges him forward with the toe of his boot. Levi growls at him and trudges forward with all the enthusiasm of a man going to the gallows.

“Don’t forget to stand on a phonebook so we can see you,” Mikasa mutters under her breath as they move to pass each other.

Levi snorts and deliberately blocks her way. “Ah, Scarecrow, I think I’ll miss you _least_ of all.”

Her eyes narrow down to slits, but her mouth very nearly curls up in a challenging smirk. “How do you talk if you don’t have a brain?”

Inwardly, he’s crowing with laughter because only two theater kids would have a face-off by wielding quotes from The Wizard of Oz like weapons. But outwardly, he merely looks her up and down with scorn written on his face and fires back, “Well some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don’t they?” A pause. And then, “How long were you up there anyway, like an hour? Geez, truer words were never spoken.”

“I’m going to strangle you; it was five minutes but of course an idiot can’t count.”

“Hurry up and get back to your fucking seat, Ackerman, I’m gonna die of old age, here.”

“I think I see a gray hair,” she comments idly, and then she rises up on her toes and pointedly looks down at him; Eren is the first one to burst out laughing, and everyone else follows out of sheer surprise.

Levi’s voice almost wobbles with the effort of trying not to laugh when he nudges her aside and snorts, “I hate you.”

“Same.”

When Levi’s finally up on stage, he frowns at everyone for staring at him even though they have nowhere else to look. He rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, okay, can everyone hear me? Because to be honest with you, I hate speeches because they’re boring so I’m only going to say all of this once, no asking for a repeat.”

“I can’t see you, could you stand up?” Mikasa calls, and everyone titters.

Levi’s eyebrow twitches and he warningly points at her. “Ackerman, I swear to God, I’ll hurt you.”

“Eren would hurt _you_.”

“I could make it up to him,” Levi drawls, winking at Eren; the boy turns bright red, Mikasa gags, and everybody else whoops. “Alright, enough, let’s fucking get this over with,” Levi groans, waving away the laughter. He lets his barbell clack against the backs of his teeth for a few moments while he tries to think of something to say.

And then he begins, “I’m gonna be honest with you guys, none of this shit that I’m about to say should be brand new information. We all, you know, worked real hard and stuff.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Sometimes it was easier than others. We put up with a lot, though. Specifically,” he says, deliberately staring down Eren. “A certain hard-headed dumbass getting into a fight and almost getting kicked out of the show.”

“Yeah, but I think I handled that pretty well,” Eren calls, grinning.

Levi snorts. “You? What exactly did you do besides cry about it? I’m pretty sure the only reason you’re still here is because literally everyone put their ass on the line for you.”

Eren’s grin turns practically predatory. “The way Erwin told it, I don’t think you should be calling out anyone for crying.”

There’s a hushed ‘ _ooh’_ that goes through the room as they stare each other down. Levi quirks a brow and warns, “Oh I’ll make you cry.”

“Get a room,” Reiner calls, and nearly everyone snickers; Mikasa just rolls her eyes and tries to act like she didn’t hear anything.

Levi starts to pace the stage, saying, “Getting back on track, my point is that we worked hard and tonight’s the last chance we get to put on this show.” He pauses for a moment and then quietly adds, “Not to sound like a whiny little baby or anything like that, but I wish we had more chances. That’s the way it is, though.”

If Levi’s being honest with himself, he feels like he’s not really saying anything all that important and so he means to end it with some banal ‘good luck’ statement and step down. But when he looks at his castmates, all he sees is complete attentiveness. They’re looking at him like they’re hanging on his every word—like what he’s saying _is_ valuable information, and so he can’t quite bring himself to just leave it there.

“You know,” he begins, picking a spot on the stage and planting his feet, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He can think better if he’s not walking all over the place. “Not a lot of people know about the fact that I was going to do theater in Sina before they kicked me out—yes, I went to Sina and they kicked me out,” he says when surprised murmurs start going around. “And no, I’m not going to tell you if you ask me; this is all you get. Anyway. I don’t know much but what I did know about it was a lot different from the way things are here.

“Everyone’s just… weirdly happy here,” he continues, thinking back to all of the times that he’d been at Sunday rehearsals as nothing more than a bystander. “And I never got that for a long time. I mean, we don’t even have a real theater, we have a shitty, ugly gym. That’s fucking depressing; what kind of theater program doesn’t have a real theater? But then, you know, I joined this year and I was kind of expecting to be treated differently because I’d only ever watched the things you guys did. But you treated me the same as ever, so that wasn’t bad, I guess.

“I don’t really know… where I’m going with this,” he trails off lamely, only just realizing how solemn he’s gotten. That’s a little awkward; he hadn’t meant to do that. He isn’t really sure what he’d meant. Levi glances out at everyone and finds his gaze drawn right to Eren, as usual. He’s sitting in between Mikasa and Armin, watching him with a fond expression that could almost border on pride.

Levi’s heart jumps. “If I hadn’t been pushed into auditioning, I’d probably have gotten a lot more sleep these past few months,” he admits, earning agreeing nods from everyone. He smirks. “My grades might be better. I probably would have had a fucking life and still remember what the sun looks like.”

He watches Eren laugh along with everybody else, eyes shining as they stare right back. Levi can’t stop the small smile that curls on his face, and he makes a mental note to learn how to regain some fucking control around that little shit, or at least start resolving to make him lose his composure more often.

Levi rolls his eyes and sighs like this is the most terribly burdensome thing in the entire world, and then he says, “I’m a lot happier now, though. Fucking exhausted. Grades dropping. Sick as shit of all of you—especially you, Erwin, you enjoy beating the shit out of me a little too much.” He waits for the laughter to die down again before he finishes, “But getting kicked out of Sina was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to me, because I wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, you know. Thanks, I guess. For being the people that I’m involved with in my first and last musical here. Kick ass tonight, all of you.”

Nobody claps when he steps down from the stage, because it’s tradition to let people say their piece and stay quiet, but the silence seems a little bit thicker than it had a few moments ago. Levi takes his seat again and looks over to find Erwin and Hanji—everyone in the near vicinity, actually—staring at him like they’ve never properly seen him before.

“The hell are you looking at?” Levi mutters, cross once more.

Hanji sniffles and shakes her head, discreetly trying to swipe at her eyes. Erwin clears his throat and smiles warmly, giving him an approving nod, answering simply with, “Well said.”

~~~

Another tradition of the program is the cast and crew party held in the smallest gym of the school on closing night. Everybody’s buzzing with excitement, eager to greet their friends and family members that attended the show before they clean up their costumes and props from the backstage area and head over to dance until midnight.

It’s 8:45 when Levi wishes his parents a goodnight—there’s hardly anybody in the lobby now—and tells them he’ll be safe driving home.

“I’m _so_ proud of you, sweetie,” his mother gushes, grabbing his cheeks and kissing his sweaty forehead for the umpteenth time that night.

“Mom, that’s disgusting.”

“So proud!”

“Stop.”

“You were great, kiddo,” his dad tells him, ruffling his already disastrous-looking hair. “A million times better than what’s-his-face.”

“Who?”

“The blonde, from the movie.”

“Neil Patrick Harris?” Levi says wryly, and his father smiles and nods like he has some sort of clue what Levi’s talking about.

“Yes, that guy. A million times better than him.”

“A million times better than who?”

“The guy you just mentioned.”

“Dad, I’m tired of you trying to act like you have any clue who famous people are. It’s embarrassing.”

“Hi, tired of you trying—”

“Dad, _no,_ ” Levi snaps, grabbing his parents by the elbows and steering them towards the exit. “Get out of here, you’re gonna be late for your show. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay? Don’t get too drunk, please don’t do anything that’ll get you killed or arrested; I have school and won’t be able to afford funerals or bail. G’night.”

His parents drag another round of congratulations and hugs out of him before they’re off, heading into the city for dinner and a show to celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary. Levi allows himself a faint smile as he watches them walk out to the parking lot hand-in-hand, his mother gesturing animatedly as she babbles on about the show, and his father grinning and hanging on her every word.

 _‘They’re so gross,’_ Levi thinks, heading into the backstage area to gather up his leftover costumes scattered about from all of his quick-changes. He waves hi to a few people here and there, answering everyone who asks with an affirmation that he’ll be going to the cast party, much to their surprise. He’s never been sure why everyone tends to assume that he hates parties; sure, socialization is tiring and sometimes he’d rather not talk, but that’s why he also has dancing and food to keep him occupied.

Once everything’s neatly stowed away in his costume bin and he’s changed into plain gray sweats and the T-shirt he’d stolen from Eren, he makes his way down to the little gym; he can already feel the thumping bass halfway down the hall, and he accepts several congratulations from people milling about the entrance as good-naturedly as he can. Really, he wouldn’t mind if people stopped focusing on the show so much; he doesn’t really feel like thinking about how it’s over now, and he feels like having some fun, for once. Although he’s attended rehearsals and shows in the past, he’d never gone to the cast party despite being invited several times.

As the night goes on, Levi concludes yet again that he’d _really_ been missing out. There’s lots of pizza and even a DJ that’s flashing club lights across half of the gym. There’s also nonstop moshing, even on slow songs—something that Levi isn’t sure whether to consider impressive or pathetic—and he even manages to somewhat put aside his distaste for being smack in the middle of dozens of sweaty bodies because one, he’s always enjoyed dancing, and two, it means that Eren is pressed right up against him for most of the night and he _really_ likes that.

Levi has no idea when the kid had finally figured out how to grind or how to put those bright eyes to use as bedroom eyes, but he’s _definitely_ not complaining. Suggestive expressions aside, Eren looks the happiest Levi’s ever seen him—everyone does, actually, and that’s enough to make the night enjoyable.

An hour before the end of the party, though, Petra and Hanji tap him on the shoulder and tell him to take a walk with them, and he follows them out into the hallway to see the rest of the seniors standing out there in a line, waiting.

“What’s goin’ on?” Levi mumbles, valiantly trying to fight off the exhaustion that’s steadily been catching up to him as the night’s worn on.

Erwin smiles at him and explains, “Another tradition. Senior hug line; we say goodbye to everyone else in the program. And yes, you have to hug them.”

Levi’s eyes pop wide open; he’s not so tired anymore. “Excuse me?” He grimaces at the thought of having to touch people; everyone’s sweating buckets, himself included. And then he asks, “Whose dumb idea was this?”

“Don’t know, but you’ve gotta admit that watching everyone cry is pretty funny,” Ymir chuckles, but she also looks a little weary at the thought. “At least, it was when I wasn’t the one leaving. So…”

Levi frowns and decides that he really doesn’t want to do this. But Erwin gives him a warning look, and he’s not going to break tradition, so he gets in line behind everyone else and trails into the gym after them. He groans loudly when the DJ switches the track.

“Vitamin fucking C? Really?”

Hanji cackles.

It really is a train wreck of emotions. Levi doesn’t hug anyone as he moves through the line, and nobody asks to hug him because they know him well enough now to understand that Levi and hugs just don’t go together. The adults chaperoning all watch with thinly veiled amusement as the kids all blubber their goodbyes like they’re _not_ going to see each other at school the next day to take down the set.

That’s probably the reason that, even though Levi does feel a twinge of sympathetic sadness for every one of the kids that aren’t graduating, it’s not like he sees any particular reason to cry about it. They still have a whole year left. They’ll see each other in class, in the halls, at lunch. Even if it’s the end of the musical, it’s not the end of everything. And he says that to everyone he wishes goodbye and good luck to, and even manages to accompany it with a pat on the head here or there for the castmates that he’s grown particularly fond of—except Bertholdt, who is far too tall for him to even think about it. Even Mikasa merits a small smile—completely free of antagonism for once—and she returns it with a quick smile of her own and a sincere, “Thanks for putting up with my baby brother.”

Levi shrugs and can’t explain the way that his heart squeezes in his chest. Briefly, he remembers a cool autumn night from what seems like a very long time ago, where they’d all stayed up watching Ghibli movies and had fallen asleep on the couch. Almost so quietly that he can’t be heard over the sappy music, he mutters, “Thanks for getting how important he is.” He flashes her a warning look. “And for never telling him I said anything like that.”

Mikasa smirks like she’s ready to lord this information over him at any time but lets it go with an accepting nod.

And then Levi gets to Eren, the last person in line. And since he’d been the last senior in line, it’s just the two of them left to say goodbye. For some reason, Levi feels like everyone’s staring but trying to be inconspicuous about it.

He has no time to be irritated about that, though, because Eren gives him a very strained grin—clearly he’d been upset but holding it in very well—before the tears start to well up and spill down his cheeks.

Levi blinks incredulously. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

Eren gurgles something that sounds like an ugly cross between a sob and a laugh, and something caves in the space behind Levi’s ribs. He takes a step closer and watches Eren duck his head and blubber, “Sorry. Sorry. I know it’s stupid and we’re gonna see each other in school and things won’t be that different, but—” He hiccups and sniffles thickly. “—but this show was the best, and you’re the best, and I can’t believe it’s the last time I get to perform with you. I want to perform more with you.”

Without even thinking about it, Levi reaches out and cups the back of Eren’s neck, pulling him down to rest his forehead against Levi’s shoulder. The gesture is too much for Eren, and he lets out a pitiful little sob.

“You’re the best,” Eren whimpers, soft enough that even though it seems like everybody’s staring at them in sympathy, Levi is the only one who can really hear him. “And I—I’m really… glad that y-you tried out. I’m g-glad that y-you gave it a chance. I—I just don’t want it… to be over.”

Levi’s fingers card up through Eren’s hair, and he doesn’t even really mind the dampness of perspiration at his nape because Eren feels soft and warm and he has an unbearable urge to pet him and tell him not to cry in tones more gentle than he’s ever used before. This is really fucking him up.

“It would never have happened if you hadn’t been such a pushy little shit,” Levi tells him, and Eren makes that terrible gurgling sound again. Levi huffs a quiet breath out through his nose and murmurs, “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Might as well be,” Eren mutters, sulking like a child, and he lets out another sniffling whimper before bringing his arms up and wrapping them around Levi’s waist as tight as they can go, like his life depends on them not pulling apart any time soon.

It’s then that Levi realizes that this has always meant as much to Eren as it has to him, except Eren, as usual, is far more open about it.

“Eren,” Levi whispers. When Eren grunts questioningly, Levi brings up his other hand and threads both of them through his messy hair, rubbing his scalp in soothing motions. “My parents are staying in the city tonight.”

Eren goes very quiet.

“You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it,” Levi continues, never ceasing his petting. “I want you to spend the night, though.” He works his next few words around in his mind first, wondering if he really should say them. He decides that it wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t want this whole thing to be over yet either.”

He lets Eren make failed attempts at composing himself for a little bit more before he feels him nod once against his shoulder and whisper, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Levi murmurs. He pulls back just enough to prompt Eren to look up, and he presses their foreheads together and stares at him. His gorgeous eyes are now puffy and red, and Levi can’t help the stifled snort that escapes him. “God, you’re an ugly crier.”

Eren smiles weakly. “Shut up, you midget.”

“You are, though, it’s disgusting.”

“I said shut up!” Eren laughs, shoving him away. Levi snorts and tugs him back, giving him the only hug he’s handed out all night. Eren whimpers again and squeezes him tight, and Levi hears more than a few coos about how romantic it is; he rolls his eyes and buries his face against Eren’s neck, content for a few seconds before he draws back and tells him to get his stuff and make his excuses.

There’s a collective groan of agony when the lights in the gym switch back on; bright light and crying teens who’ve been acclimated to the dark is never a wonderful combination. Levi grabs his jacket and keys and says goodbye to Erwin, Hanji, and Petra, too drained to protest the big hugs that the latter two give him.

Eren tells Mikasa that he’ll be sleeping over at Armin’s and that Levi will drop the both of them off; either Mikasa doesn’t suspect a thing or she’s surprisingly alright with it, because she gives Eren a once over and hugs him with nothing else said except a soft, “Be safe and text me when you’re there.”

Eren promises he will and asks Armin if he’s okay with covering for him; Armin grins and says it’s no problem, adding, “You owe me one.”

Eren grins. “Yeah, yeah, you got it.”

“Thanks for the ride, Levi,” Armin says when he’s dropped off, giving him a wave and a smile. Levi remembers when the kid wasn’t even able to look in his direction and say hello, and he’s a little impressed with how comfortable Armin has grown around everyone.

“Stay golden, kid,” is his response with a gesture at Armin’s hair.

Armin gives him a pained smile. “That was awful.”

“Yeah, well, it’s midnight. Let’s see how funny you are when you’re running on a total of ten hours of sleep for a whole week.”

“Point taken. Goodnight, you guys!”

The drive back to Levi’s house is mostly quiet, nothing but a mellow indie station playing on low. The windows are down because it’s surprisingly warm for late October, and the gentle breeze is soothing. Eren looks drowsy in the passenger seat, and Levi hides a warm smile every time he glances over and sees him starting to nod off.

“You have to take a shower,” Levi tells him when they’ve kicked their shoes off at the front door. “I’m not letting you in my bed smelling like sweat and tears. Gross.”

Eren blinks blearily and glances down at himself. “What am I gonna wear, though?”

Levi leads him to his room and says, “I still have that pair of sweatpants I borrowed from you that one time I slept over. Second drawer down in that dresser over there. Don’t mess it up. You can use the bathroom in that hallway, I’ll use the one in the studio downstairs.”

Eren starts to go red, visible even in the darkness of the house, and he mumbles something that Levi doesn’t quite catch. “I said,” he begins awkwardly. “Um, what about… underwear?”

Levi can’t help the wicked smirk that spreads over his face, and he steps closer and closer until he’s backed Eren up against the wall. “Gettin’ shy on me now, Bright-Eyes?”

It takes a moment, but Eren grins and leans forward until they’re almost nose-to-nose. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re a couple years too early for that,” Levi calls easily as he heads down to the basement, fresh pajama pants in hand. His heart, however, is pounding.

Levi isn’t expecting anything to happen; he never does, really, because expectations are kind of stupid and if something happens, then it happens, but if something doesn’t, then it doesn’t. And that’s okay. Plus, he’s not comfortable with placing expectations on either Eren or himself; Eren, after all, is probably just as exhausted as he is. And as for himself, well… he’s not incredibly experienced even now—the most they’ve done is heavy petting—and is pretty certain that whatever one would normally expect to happen at a romantic sleepover isn’t going to happen here.

Neither of them is ready for _that._

But now, shirtless and lying close together in bed with an equally shirtless and freshly-showered Eren, there’s a low burn in Levi’s gut that tells him that he can pretend to be a gentleman all damn day, but he _wants_ Eren. Badly. And they’re alone. And when he reaches out and lays his hand against the solid warmth of Eren’s back, Eren turns around and looks at him—and yes, the look he knows he must be wearing is mirrored in the other boy’s eyes.

They kiss. Soft and slow at first, hesitant because nobody else is home, they’re all alone in the house and they have the rest of the night to do whatever they want, and that’s a little bit daunting. It’s a little bit clumsy, heads awkwardly angled because they’re laying side by side under the covers close enough to touch but not enough to be in an embrace.

Until Eren gets greedy, like he always does, slides closer and runs shaky palms—calloused from the days he’s spent working in his mother’s garden—up the smooth skin of Levi’s bare back. Levi’s mouth parts on a quiet, contented sigh that melts into a moan when Eren’s tongue slips in, rough and overeager.

“Relax,” Levi mutters when he pulls away; Eren blinks at him with hazy eyes, face flushed and lips parted. Levi’s cock, already painfully hard—God, he’d been hard when he’d walked into the room and had seen Eren slipping into his bed like he belonged there, he can’t deny it—twitches at the sight, and he drags Eren’s head back to expose the soft flesh of his neck.

“We have all night, if you want,” Levi murmurs against his skin, sucking dark marks to the surface here and there that he knows he’ll be able to see perfectly in the light of day.

“To do what?” Eren whispers hoarsely, biting back moans. Levi latches on to the skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder and sucks hard, drawing out a sharp cry that he’d desperately wanted to hear; he rolls them over until Eren is laying under him, legs spread enough that he can fit his hips perfectly in the space between, pressed against him in a way that sends lazy heat crackling up his spine every time there’s the slightest shift from either of them.

“Anything you want. We can do whatever,” is Levi’s soft answer. His head feels light. Probably because most of the blood in his body has rushed south of the equator.

Eren squirms and Levi has to hold his hips still because that is fucking distracting. “Anything?” Eren whispers.

Levi snorts, body moving with the action; he pauses for a moment to lazily grind against Eren when the movement earns him a low, surprised grunt—he takes that back, it’s only distracting when Eren’s doing it, actually. When he’s doing it, it’s good.

“Anything but _that_ ,” he replies.

Eren’s face is still red, but he smiles, reassured. “Okay,” he murmurs, and it seems to be the only thing he’d needed to hear because he wraps his arms around Levi’s shoulders and pulls him down for an open-mouthed kiss that’s all hot tongue and nipping teeth—and it’s just rough enough to drive Levi crazy but slow enough to make _him_ the greedy one now.

He wants more.

Even though they’ve been fooling around long enough to get a tentative feel for the basics of what makes each other feel good, Levi knows that out of the two of them, Eren is usually the aggressive one. Eren is the one who makes the first move, demands the first kiss, pins Levi down first, makes him come first. Eren isn’t shy. And Levi likes that a lot.

But now, high off the energy of an incredible closing night performance and an amazing party, alone in the house with his boyfriend in his bed wearing nothing but a wonderfully thin pair of pajama pants—Levi wants to take control.

And he knows that Eren trusts him, and that gives him all the confidence he needs.

It isn’t long before what little clothing they were wearing is off and on the floor, and Levi is reveling in the loud, blunt moans that are tumbling from Eren’s lips as he jerks him off with quick, rough strokes the way he knows Eren likes it. Honestly, he’s never felt more like a teenager than he does right now, and he’s more than okay with giving Eren all the attention because he’s pretty sure that he’d blow his load in two seconds if he were the one being touched, that’s how far gone he is.

Eren groans for more, _faster_ , and Levi obliges him for all of five seconds before he’s pulling away and scooting back down the bed; Eren’s not paying attention of course, head thrown back against the pillows and an arm over his eyes. He whines at the loss of contact. “Why’re you— _ah!_ ” he shouts, hips practically rocketing off the bed when Levi sinks down and closes his mouth over the head of Eren’s dick with a firm, slow suck that leaves Eren shaking.

“Oh God,” he moans, shallowly thrusting up into Levi’s mouth. Levi doesn’t mind; there’s a lot to be said for being able to drive someone so out of it with pleasure that all they can manage are the most primal noises and actions. He’s more preoccupied with cataloguing all the little details of this in his mind so he can remember it well any time he wants—how loud Eren sounds in this otherwise silent house, how he feels, how hard and thick he is against his tongue, the slight bitterness of the taste of him in the back of Levi’s throat.

Levi slides Eren’s cock out of his mouth with a wet pop and smiles, though he can’t see it. “You don’t have to call me that.”

Eren’s only response is a heated growl and a forceful grab at his hair that has Levi moaning now as he obediently bobs his head back down. In truth, he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing—the only intimate experience with dicks he’s had for most of his life is touching his own, and blowjobs are a whole other ballgame, so he focuses on whatever makes Eren moan the loudest and tighten his grip on Levi’s hair.

Eren, true to form, still likes all of him worked rough—powerful sucks taking him in as deep as Levi can manage, but it still makes his jaw hurt, and a lot of tongue, flat, broad swipes against the shaft that leave both of them quivering—Eren from his impending orgasm and Levi from the excitement of being able to reduce someone so fiery and stubborn to a boneless, panting mess.

It’s a power he didn’t think he’d like so much, and he wonders why they haven’t done this before and when they can do it again.

And Levi is honestly—shamefully, he thinks—just about ready to blow when he experimentally twirls the ball of his piercing around the head of Eren’s dick—he’d read something once and, of course, was curious—and the action has Eren practically keening.

 _‘Bingo,’_ Levi thinks smugly, drawing up just enough to lave the tip and setting a relentless rhythm with his hand, pumping what he doesn’t fit in his mouth in firm, quick strokes because as fun as this is and as much as he’s enjoying himself, he _really_ wants to make Eren come already. His jaw aches.

Eren doesn’t disappoint, warning him soon enough with only a stuttered, “I-I’m co—” before Levi feels his cock swell and he’s crying out, hips arching clear off the bed as he comes in long, thick bursts in Levi’s mouth.

Levi waits until he’s absolutely sure Eren’s done before he leans over the side of the bed and spits into the wastebasket there, privately thankful that he’d remembered to empty it out the other day because while that was unarguably the hottest thing he’s ever experienced in his life and he was _not_ going to let it mess up the bed, it was also fucking disgusting and he doesn’t have any plans to swallow any time soon.

He crawls up the bed and flops down next to Eren, who lays panting like he’s just run a marathon. “I don’t know why you look so tired,” Levi murmurs teasingly, nudging him in the shoulder. “I was doing all the work.”

He should’ve known better than to say something that Eren would take as a challenge, bright eyes snapping open and body up and moving like he hadn’t just had the best orgasm of his life, pinning Levi to the mattress with bruising kisses before he sinks low and gives the head of his cock a tentative lick. It feels good, but—

“We’re gonna be here all night if that’s all you do to it,” Levi mutters, smirking down at the annoyed look that Eren throws him.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” he taunts. This time, the challenge is deliberate. Eren takes it to heart, giving him that wonderful, absolutely determined look that he knows so well by now and sets his heart racing.

Levi has no personal knowledge about what constitutes good or bad technique—it’s his first time getting sucked off by his first boyfriend. Nothing short of unnecessary biting could be considered bad technique, and Eren’s not an idiot, so he has nothing to complain about.

If Levi’s brain was working anywhere near normal capacity, he’d probably say that Eren gives blowjobs like he does everything else in life—sloppy but more than making up for it with enthusiasm. He tries copying what had worked for him, licking and sucking at the head while attending to the rest with his hand, and while it feels good and the pleasurable coil in Levi’s gut is winding ever-tighter, it’s not quite enough.

“S-Suck it all,” he manages to get out, punctuating his words with a broken moan of disappointment when Eren pulls away a bit.

“My mouth kind of hurts,” he confesses.

Levi levels a narrow-eyed glare at him. “I’m sorry, you’re bigger than I am—how do you think I felt? But if you wanna be a _baby_ about it—”

Levi doesn’t get to finish his taunt before Eren is taking him in as far as he can go, tongue and throat working as he sucks and swallows and—

“Oh fuck.”

—it’s incredible and Levi’s sure he’s going to come, he’s going to come so hard and it would’ve been embarrassingly quick if he hadn’t just gotten Eren off, he’s sure of it, but he’ll be embarrassed in the morning because—

“Ohh— _fuck!”_

—Eren is relentless and his mouth is warm and wet and looks so depravedly _good_ stuffed full of his cock, and Levi can’t take the sight of it or that sultry look in his eyes; his back arches and his head tips back, mouth dropping open in a nearly silent moan as he comes so fucking hard he swears he can see stars.

And thank God Eren’s not an idiot, because even though Levi’s mind feels like it’s nothing but a cottony haze right now, he’s still dimly aware of Eren crawling up the still-clean bed and spitting in the trash can before flopping down and throwing an arm over Levi.

“You’re sweaty,” is all Levi manages to say; his brain really is out of commission. “Gross.”

Eren gives him a lazy smile, eyes suddenly too heavy to keep open. “You’re sweaty, too. Even grosser.”

Levi unforgivingly pinches his cheek for that one until Eren giggles out a plea for mercy and he relents, dragging the blanket halfway up their bodies with his foot because even though they’re overheated now, the room gets unbelievably cold and they’ll be shivering come morning. A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand tells him that it’s so late, it’s early.

“We should sleep,” Levi murmurs, scooting right into the space in Eren’s arms where he fits perfectly. “School tomorrow.”

“Are you taking the half day?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that,” Levi grunts, nudging his leg with a weak kick. “I’m not gonna be up until noon and I’m not getting out of here until three-fucking-pm when we have to go take the set down. That’s what I meant by school.”

Eren snickers and doesn’t say anything more—the administration has granted all of the kids involved in the show a free pass for school where they can either show up for a half day or not at all, so long as they attend set strike.

It’s quiet now, and after a while of listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and the even rise and fall of his chest, Levi thinks Eren’s fallen asleep. But then he murmurs, “Levi?”

“Hm?”

“I really am glad you tried out.”

It seems like such a non-sequitur, but Levi knows just how meaningful that little phrase is. Levi’s eyes briefly slide shut and he feels like he’s swallowed sunlight, his chest is so warm and full to bursting right now—never in his life has he ever been so filled with the want to tell somebody he loves them the way that he wants to say it to Eren right now.

But he doesn’t, because he knows that when he says it, it’s going to be when they’re both fully awake and coherent, and he won’t ever forget it. After that, he’ll whisper it to Eren in bed when they’re both boneless and tired as many times as he wants to, but for now, he’ll wait.

For now, he smiles and murmurs a fond, “Me too, Bright-Eyes.”

The way that Eren beams at him in return is what Levi replays behind his closed eyelids over and over again until he’s absolutely certain that he’ll never forget, and finally, exhaustion catches up to him and he sinks into an easy slumber.


	16. Act One - Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadis nods and claps his hands together. “Alright then,” he says, glancing first at the clock and then back to them. “Get home. Do your homework, eat food that’s not crap from the vending machine, and get some sleep.” He sounds almost fond when he says to them, a final time, “Dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Life is not going well for me right now, and it actually hasn't been for a little while. This is as good a time as any to announce that I will be taking a bit of a hiatus from all of my pieces. Hopefully it won't be for too long; hopefully it won't be another two months before I upload another chapter, hahah. I'm sorry I've been trash with responding to comments, too, but just know that I read every single one and they lift my spirits in a way that I really need, hahah. You're all darlings, and I'm very grateful to you all for reading this. Just gimme some time to get back on my feet, and I'll be updating again before you know it. Love you guys. Enjoy.

Despite falling asleep with a sense of utter peace and contentment that he’s never known could exist before, Levi wakes up with a strangled groan and pins and needles searing through his arm. “Jesus fuck, get off,” he rasps, bleary-eyed and shoving at Eren’s chest with his free hand.

Eren wakes with a muffled snort that would probably be cute if he hadn’t been cutting off Levi’s circulation. He flops over onto his back, and Levi’s irritation at his own less-than-pleasant wakeup slowly fades as he watches Eren stretch like a cat, arching with a low groan that has his mind shooting straight to the gutter.

He can’t help but feel a little smug. _‘Good morning.’_

Unfortunately, Levi is still too exhausted to even think about popping a boner, much less actually fooling around before again one more time before they have to be at school for set strike. Eren seems to share his mindset; he dozes off again, and it’s well past noon by the time they’re both up and dressed, sitting at the kitchen counter and eating reheated leftovers.

Levi blames the lack of coffee—he’s decided on a quick stop at Starbuck’s later because he’s too lazy to muster up the patience to deal with the family’s temperamental coffee-maker—for his less-than-alert state, which is why he’s completely caught off guard when Eren asks around a mouthful of food, “So have you thought about Stohess?”

Levi blinks and then grimaces, nudging Eren with his elbow and saying, “That’s gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Eren rolls his eyes but waits until he’s swallowed before repeating, “Have you thought about Stohess?”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why are you avoiding the question?”

“I’m not,” he replies, a little too hasty to be honest. This doesn’t escape Eren, and Levi resists the urge to swipe at the counter to clean away stray crumbs that he knows aren’t there. By this point, Eren is just as aware of his nervous ticks as he is, so he tamps the compulsion down just so he can pretend that he’s the one in control of something right now.

“You know,” he begins, shooting Eren a wry look. “When I said that we should wait until after the play to talk about this, I didn’t mean literally right after. The set’s not even down yet.”

Eren smiles like the cheeky little shit he is and says, “Better to do it sooner rather than later.”

“Says the moron who always leaves his homework until the last minute.”

“You’re changing the subject,” Eren says pointedly, and Levi frowns.

“God, my own mom doesn’t even nag me like this.”

“Mine does,” Eren says, smirking when Levi rolls his eyes. “I’m not nagging. You said we’d talk. So let’s talk.”

Levi is nothing if not a man of his word, but it doesn’t keep the sour expression off of his face. He’s not mad—really, he’s not even annoyed or anything close to that. Truth be told, he’s aware that he’s running out of time to make important decisions about his future, and as nauseating as it is to have to think about it, he is a little bit grateful that Eren’s unwilling to let the subject drop. Eren seems to always push when it counts.

“Let me ask you something,” Levi says, setting down his fork with a clatter and turning in his seat to face Eren. He props his elbow up on the counter and rests his chin on his hand, giving Eren a searching look. “Why do you want to go to Stohess?”

Eren frowns. “We’re talking about you.”

Levi quirks a brow. “Humor me.”

Eren shrugs and starts off with a very intelligent-sounding, “Um.” When Levi snorts, he narrows his eyes at him and barely manages to not laugh. He rolls his eyes skyward as if he’s searching for his words on the ceiling, and then he starts to talk.

It’s obvious that Eren’s harbored a dream for Stohess for a long, long time. Only someone like Eren with his heart dead-set on attending would be able to practically wax poetic about everything from the intense curriculum, to the professors, to the campus, to the alumni. He rambles on about everything he loves, like the 72 hour drama festival that students collaborate on for one week, every year. He talks about how the setting is beneficial, far enough away from home that he’ll finally be independent when, not if, he gets there, but still close enough that all it takes is a couple hours’ drive to visit.

“And how cool would it be to walk those halls, you know?” Eren breathes, bringing a fist down on the table with a quiet thump for emphasis. He’s practically vibrating in his seat. “I mean, can you imagine performing on the same stage where people like—like Ilse Langner performed? I want to do that. I’m _gonna_ do that.”

Levi watches him silently, gaze soft. “Jeez, you could probably get the world to spin backwards if you decided you wanted to,” he says.

Bright spots of red pop high on Eren’s cheeks, and he grins and shakes his head. “Shut up,” he mumbles sheepishly, looking away. He fiddles with his fork for a couple of seconds before glancing back. “So, I said my piece. Now you go.”

Levi picks up his own fork and deftly nicks a bite of food from Eren’s plate, ignoring Eren’s laughing protest and waiting until he’s swallowed to speak. “I agree with you,” he says at last, looking Eren in the eye.

 Eren’s brows climb until they disappear behind the bangs of his incredibly disastrous bedhead. “Huh?”

Levi gives him a faint smirk. “I said I agree with you. Maybe not with all the in-depth knowledge—Jesus Christ, kid, did you write the fucking Wikipedia page? Don’t answer that. But that’s—that doesn’t sound all that bad.”

Eren blinks at him. “So then… What are you unsure about?”

Levi lets out an inelegant snort and says, “Crippling financial debt, for one thing.” Eren winces; that’s not exactly a point he can argue. “Besides, assuming I take the risk of applying and I get accepted by some complete fucking miracle, I’m not even sure I want to turn acting into a career. I love it, but I don’t know about that.”

Eren just looks increasingly confused; it’s obvious that he’s trying to reconcile his own attitude about it with Levi’s and still coming up a bit short. “You’re so good at it, though,” he offers.

Levi hums noncommittally. “Being good at something isn’t enough to decide to spend the rest of your life on it. Even loving it isn’t enough for that; I’m not saying it can’t be done,” he adds, voice raised over whatever Eren had opened his mouth to interject with. Levi gives him a pointed look. “I’m just saying, it’s not something I’m gonna jump at the chance for.

“I mean, why do I have to make a career out of the whole thing? Who says I even can? The word career makes me think of… I don’t know, constant stress, a 9-to-5 every day with overtime and kissing ass to try and make ends meet and rise up in the ranks. And shit like a bald spot at age 40, Jesus fuck,” Levi confesses, and Eren muffles a snort in his hand but gives him an apologetic look for nearly laughing. Levi shakes his head and almost smiles. “Except with theater, it’s more like going months without a job, unsuccessful audition after audition and… running around, sucking up to the director and hoping they bother to learn your name. It could be years before I break into the business for real. And I think I love acting a little too much to make a career out of it. It’s fun to me, not work. And I’m not trying to shit all over your dream here, but that’s what it is to me right now. A dream.”

It takes Eren a little while to digest this information, and it isn’t until after they’ve cleared away the dishes and Levi nearly smacks him in the face with a brush, telling him to fix the rat’s nest or he’ll shave it off, that he finally asks, “So if you decide not to go for Stohess, what will you do?”

Levi pauses in slipping on his boots and snorts. “Fuck if I know. I want to go to college, I think. And I think I wanna go after graduating, but I’m not sure if I’ll take a gap year or not—to work a little and save up before I have to sell a kidney on the black market just to afford tuition.” He sneaks a glance at the clock—it’s a little past 2:30—and then looks at Eren. “You know, it’s a little funny how you keep talking at me like if I applied to Stohess, getting in would be a sure thing.”

Eren grins. “Well it is you we’re talking about.”

“I’ve been expelled from a school and only have one official theater production on my record.”

“As the lead.”

“I don’t think you heard me.”

“I _did_ ,” Eren laughs, slipping his own shoes on. “It’s just—I really don’t think they’d flat out reject you.”

“You obviously don’t know anything about college admissions,” Levi snarks, shoving his keys in his pocket and heading for the door. “Come on, let’s go get this shit over with.”

After picking up Armin and one hasty stop at a Starbucks drive-thru—which is spent with Eren and Armin nearly clinging to each other in the back seat out of fear for Levi’s reckless driving—they pull up in the student parking lot just after the dismissal bell rings. Weaving through the crowds of students exiting the building and acknowledging a few hellos or congratulations on the show, they make it to the big gym just as Shadis is gathering everyone on the stage to announce the agenda.

“Way to be a cliché,” Ymir mutters out the side of her mouth when Levi plops down in between her and Erwin.

“We were five minutes late, not fifteen,” Levi retorts, taking a deliberate sip of his coffee with his middle finger raised instead of his pinky. Ymir returns the gesture far more conspicuously, and Shadis pretends that he doesn’t notice.

“Alright, let’s get down to business. _Stop,_ ” Shadis growls when Connie and Sasha start humming the opening of ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’. “We’ve got a lot to do if we want to be out of here at a decent hour. So listen up.”

Shadis isn’t kidding; it’s hours of hard, honest work tying up the loose ends of their successful production and putting things back in order. The cast gets sent to the little auditorium’s backstage area to sort out costumes; what few were rented are carefully repackaged and hung up on a rack that gets wheeled down to Ms. Nanaba’s room. The ones that were bought from Goodwill are folded and boxed up to be hauled to the costume loft on the second floor.

Levi frowns when he spots Eren tossing Penny’s signature scarf on top of the pile of accessories meant for the loft, and he ends up sneaking it back into Eren’s bin when he’s not looking. Erwin gives him a knowing smile that Levi rolls his eyes at, but doesn’t tease him about it. Being seniors, they know that having something to remember the show by is a top priority, and it’s common for people to take home a memento—even though they’re not supposed to.

“Spare me,” Levi deadpans later on when he walks past Erwin and completely ignores the disapproving look on his face.

“Do you really think Shadis is going to let you walk out of here with those?”

“No, which is why I’m not going to let him know,” Levi answers, burying the two cases of soda he’s just pilfered at the bottom of his costume bin and covering them up.

“Those are supposed to go towards concessions.”

“My name is on them.”

“Because you donated them. For concessions.”

“Mm-hm,” Levi hums, snapping the lid shut on his bin and dusting off his hands like he’s just completed grueling work. “And now I’m taking them back. Keepsakes, you know. Precious memories and all that shit. Every time I open a can, I’ll think of the show,” he drawls, laying a hand over his heart.

Erwin shakes his head with an incredulous chuckle and lets the subject drop. The only victory he’ll ever have against Levi is having been able to convince him to audition. And really, he can live with that.

Once the costumes are gone, it’s a steady cleanup; makeup boxes are stored away, curling irons wrapped in their cords and placed back onto the shelf of the metal cabinet that holds all of the hair products. It’s more than a little jarring to see the evidence of their show—of the past two months of their lives—disappear bit by bit. Not to mention—

“Nobody warned me this would be so fucking depressing,” Levi mutters to Petra while he tosses out empty can after empty can of hairspray.

She clucks her tongue and nods, wiping a damp rag over the grimy vanity tops that are now bare of clutter. “It always ends up that way,” she murmurs, not quite managing to keep the forlorn note out of her voice.

“And it doesn’t get any easier?” Armin asks, passing by with a half-filled trash bin.

Petra smiles at him and gently shakes her head. “No, not really. Not for me anyways; every show means so much that even though I know it’s coming, it’s still hard to let go. Like you, you’ve got three more years after this to look forward to.”

“Well only if—”

“Three more years,” Petra and Levi cut him off, not having the modesty. They both share an amused look before Petra continues, “But just because you’ve got so much time left, that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel sad that time’s up for now, right?”

Armin looks a little sheepish at the compliment, the implication that he’s got the talent to be a theater veteran with four years under their belt in the future, and then answers, “That’s true.” He glances around the backstage area, far quieter now than it had been earlier; everyone seems to have lost the hustle and bustle energy they’d started out with. “I do wish we could perform just one more time.”

Petra senses the heavy mood and turns away from her work for a moment in favor of giving Armin a bright smile. “So do I. But hey, you know what they say. Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”

“Jesus,” Levi interjects with a snort. “Thank you, I honestly did wake up today and think to myself, ‘You know what I need? A cavity.’”

Petra laughs and swats him with the rag. “Shut up, you know you’re sad too.

Levi rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Somewhere deep down in the dark, gaping chasm—”

“The endless abyss,” Erwin adds.

Across the room, Eren pipes up, “The pitch-black _vortex_ —”

“Fuck right off,” Levi snaps, valiantly fighting back the urge to smile. “You assholes. Yeah, okay, somewhere deep down in the dark, gaping chasm, the endless abyss, the _pitch- black vortex_ ,” he repeats, a little bit impressed at who _that_ dig had come from, “that is my heart, I’m a wreck.”

“Your heart? So the rumors are true,” Erwin teases.

Levi narrows his eyes and smirks, shrugging. “You got me.”

“Hey now, hold on, what’s this about Levi having a heart?” Jean calls. “Impossible.”

“Improbable,” Reiner corrects, grinning.

“Inconceivable!” Connie exclaims, voice pitching up in such a perfect mimicry of Wallace Shawn’s that it has practically everyone in the room dissolving into hysterics.

Levi presses a fist to his mouth to hide the smile creeping across his face. “Assholes, all of you,” he says, but it comes out sounding far too fond to be an insult.

~~~

By the time the backstage area is cleaned up and everyone’s costume bins are neatly stacked up in the hallway outside of the big gym, the set has already been half-demolished. The space suddenly seems too big for anyone to be comfortable in, the backdrops gone and huge gaps in between the pieces where they’re already in the process of being dismantled and taken out to the trash.

The crew works quickly, Mr. Z and Director Shadis tackling the hardest jobs and leaving Hanji, Ymir, Annie, and Mikasa to supervise their own groups of less experienced students. When the cast arrives to help tackle the rest of the job, they all split up under the guise of helping, but the truth is that there’s a reason that the cast members signed up to perform rather than going straight for crew back in September. Not many of them know how to properly hold a hammer, much less have the knack for handling a power drill to remove the screws in the set—something that Levi notes with barely concealed annoyance. Hopefully no one does anything stupid like dicking around and getting mortally wounded or something.

Levi can handle the work well enough; he’s spent enough time around Hanji listening to her jabber on about the construction process, after all. Petra can manage it too, but Levi had watched her handle a good portion of the backstage cleanup on top of functioning as an impromptu grief counselor for more than one newbie who’d crossed her path looking a little too sad for her to ignore, so he waves off her help in favor of telling her to keep an eye on Erwin.

“Don’t let him anywhere near a power tool,” Hanji says gravely. “Remember what happened last time.”

“What happened last time?” Christa asks.

Erwin smiles, but Levi can spot the tightness in his expression. Before Erwin can deflect the question, Levi smugly drawls, “Oh, _this_ story.”

Interest lights up the eyes of everyone around them, and Hanji cackles when their gazes swivel from Levi to Erwin and back again. “Alright children, gather ‘round and listen up, but also pay attention to what you’re doing because if someone gets hurt and loses a body part or something, I’m going to be in trouble. So basically what happened was, last year, we were striking the set, right?

“And Erwin was removing one of the screws with the drill, and he was doing _okay_ but it was coming out wonky and eventually it just wouldn’t move anymore. So it’s far enough out that we’re just like, ‘Screw it, just get a hammer and pull it out.’ Bad idea. Terrible idea. The worst. I mean in hindsight, we should’ve just—”

“Get to the point, Hanji.”

“Right, sorry. Anyway, yeah, we told him to get a hammer and take it out.” Hanji grins broadly, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “It wouldn’t come out. And when he pulled back, the hammer flew out of his hand and almost hit Director Shadis. But he moved out of the way in time.”

None of the other kids are saying a word, and Erwin is deliberately not looking anyone in the eye. Levi mentally gives him credit for the completely blank look he has on now, though; impressive considering how embarrassing the story is.

“Did that really happen?” Mina whispers, although she sounds like she believes it and is just questioning it for the sake of Erwin’s pride.

Annie smiles faintly and murmurs, “You know that weird piece of dented drywall that Mr. Z keeps in his office? The one that everyone asks about but he never says a word?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles wider. “Yeah.”

Petra is the first one who starts laughing, apologetically patting Erwin’s arm when he gives her a look of mock betrayal. Aside from that, though, he takes everyone’s amusement in good stride and, with a pointed glance at Levi and Hanji, says, “To be honest, I’m surprised that it took so long for that shining moment of mine to become public knowledge. I mean really, I was cast as Captain Hammer. How did you miss that?”

“You’re right!” Hanji exclaims, tangling a hand in her hair and looking horrified. “I can’t believe I didn’t see the opportunity; I had months!”

“I thought about it plenty, but contrary to popular belief, I’m not _that_ much of an asshole,” Levi says sardonically.

“Inconceivable,” Connie mutters again, and it sets off another round of laughter before Shadis barks out an order to get back to work.

The playfulness fades once they’re focused on the task at hand, and everybody grits their teeth through the arduous work. Levi expects to hear complaints—even though he’s not a whiner, he’s allowed a stray, grumbling thought here or there every time he has to haul pieces out to the dumpsters—but is pleasantly surprised that there are none.

“I have a new respect for the crew kids,” Eren huffs, returning in the final group from the dumpsters. The last of the set is gone. “I’m pretty sure I have a million splinters in each hand.”

“Tell me about it,” Sasha groans, crawling up onto the stage and sprawling out. “I can’t imagine being on crew and having to build all that stuff. That’s incredible.”

“Takes a lot of blood, sweat, and angry tears,” Ymir snarks, taking a seat beside her and tugging on the end of her ponytail. “A _lot_ of blood.”

“That’s why I’m staying on costume and makeup,” Christa says matter-of-factly.

“Cause you’re a delicate little flower?” Jean teases, ignoring the way Ymir glares at him. Christa smiles.

“Nope. Honestly, I’m just too lazy.”

“I’m pretty sure Ymir wouldn’t mind doing all your work for you and giving you the credit,” Levi says, smirking.

Ymir doesn’t even hesitate. “I would. I so would.”

Christa hides a grin behind her hand. “Thanks,” she says, cheeks pink. She shrugs and adds, “I do kind of wish more people would help out Ms. Nanaba and me, though. So far it’s just us on costume and makeup because either no one wants to do it or no one takes it seriously.”

“You do just as much for the show as actors, crew, and tech do,” Armin says from his spot in between Eren and Mikasa. “It all goes towards making sure the audience believes that the show is real. Just look at the big Broadway productions like The Lion King and Chicago. Those shows would be nothing without  their costume and makeup departments.”

“My mom actually just got done choreographing Chicago for the community theater,” Levi says, laying back on the stage. After all that work, it’s an honest struggle to keep his eyes open, he’s so exhausted. “Costume and makeup can make or break a show. The director practically shit a brick when one of the girls’ Cell Block Tango costumes didn’t come in; everything got put on hold.”

Christa draws her knees up and rests her chin against the tops, thoughtful. “Maybe the spring plays will be a little more reliant on them. It’d be nice to get some new recruits.”

Eren perks up at that. “Spring plays?”

Levi snorts. “Please tell me you know that there are spring plays.”

“Shut up, I know! I meant, what _are_ the spring plays?”

“Too early to know. We’ll probably hear about it in November, if we’re lucky,” Erwin says, just as the adults call for everyone to gather on the stage. It’s almost 7:30, and on a Monday night, the school is completely empty save for them.

“Alright,” Shadis begins, and his voice is rough with weariness rather than its usual gruff bite. “First off, good work. The set’s gone. The backstage is clean. Hopefully all of the cases of soda are still there.”

Levi kicks Erwin when the blonde turns and stares at him. _‘Fuck off,’_ he mouths.

Shadis clears his throat and folds his arms. After a pause, he says, “Secondly, we’d like to thank you kids.”

“God no,” Levi whispers, ignoring the warning look that Petra levels at him. In all fairness, adults getting sentimental is really gross, and for Shadis, this is rapidly approaching sentimental.

“This show was all you. We handed you the scripts, told you what to build, where to stand, what to sing, how to dance. But this show came together because you put the work into it that it needed. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had students and teachers coming up to me all day telling me how impressed they were with the show.

“You spent months on this. You lost sleep, your grades dropped—don’t try to pretend otherwise because some of you are in my class—and I’m positive that at one point or another, you all doubted why you decided to try out. You’d have to be insane not to. But you pulled through.”

Clearly, this takes a bit of effort. But Shadis nods once and, although he’s frowning, his eyes glint with something like respect. “I’m proud of you kids. You did good.”

There’s a heavy moment of silence punctuated by a couple of restrained sniffles, and Levi has to wait for the unexpected ache in his chest to throb away before he raises a hand and says, “Director Shadis, I wanna take this moment to say we’re all proud of you, too. You didn’t kill anyone this year.”

Shadis’ expression goes blank. “There’s still time.”

“Avoid the face, if you can. I’d like an open casket funeral.”

“Noted,” Shadis says, waiting until the everyone’s snickers die down before he continues, “The last thing I want to mention is something that should be expected. Just because the fall season is over, that doesn’t mean we’re done for the year. When finals come around in December, we start back up again with the spring plays.”

Predictably, even though everyone is sweaty and tired and just wants to go home, everyone snaps to attention. Out of the corner of his eye, Levi sees Eren sit up straighter, eyes shining as he listens to Shadis.

“Now you’ll be hearing more about it the closer that it gets, but for now, auditions are set for December 18th. That’s a Wednesday. It’s also the first day of finals,” he reveals, the announcement met with several pained groans. “Suck it up. The more effort you put into your classes, the easier your finals will be, and you won’t have to worry so much. Don’t slack off; you’re better than that,” he growls, a warning and a compliment all in one.

Shadis clears his throat and continues, “Now for those of you who don’t know, the spring plays are two things: first, they’re smaller than the musical is, and second, they are competitive. There’s contest play, a forty-minute production with full set and costumes, and then there’s group interpretation, which is thirty minutes long and something in the style of reader’s theater. If you have any questions, you can ask around the people who’ve been in these shows before. Aside from that, the next time you’ll be hearing about it should be in a little less than two months.”

Mr. Z raises a quick hand then and waves everyone’s attention over to him. “A note: auditions don’t happen until December, but the plays are picked before then, which allows crew to get a head start. Hanji, earlier in the year, you made a mailing list with everyone’s name on it, right?”

“Yes sir!” Hanji shouts, bolting to her feet. “I’ll probably be sending out e-mails to everyone in late November, when we find out what kind of sets the plays need. So don’t forget to check!”

Mr. Z nods approvingly. “Alright. Anything else?”

“One more thing!” Hanji chimes as Erwin rises to his feet and stands beside her. She nudges him in the side and says, “So every year, we have a cast and crew Halloween party—because let’s be honest, we need to cling to each other and deny that the show is really over all the way up until spring play auditions.”

“It’s at my house this year, seven o’clock on Saturday,” Erwin says. “You don’t have to dress up, although we do give away a prize to whoever has the greatest costume. Don’t ask me what the criteria for ‘great’ is, because Hanji’s going to be the judge. Feel free to bring snacks, show up late, leave early, whatever you want. Everyone’s invited, even the adults.”

“Oh, I’ve been waiting for a chance to break out my cowboy costume,” Mr. Z deadpans, earning an amused snort from Shadis.

“Well anyone who shows up in costume has a chance to win the prize,” Hanji laughs, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “And that’s all we have to announce.”

Shadis nods and claps his hands together. “Alright then,” he says, glancing first at the clock and then back to them. “Get home. Do your homework, eat food that’s not crap from the vending machine, and get some sleep.” He sounds almost fond when he says to them, a final time, “Dismissed.”

~~~

Levi lays on his bed later that night, absentmindedly petting Baby when his phone chimes with a call from Eren. Baby noses at it and lets out a soft woof, and he scratches her behind the ears and answers, “Yeah?”

“Did you steal Penny’s scarf?”

Levi quirks a brow at Baby and smirks conspiratorially even though she’s completely oblivious to anything other than the attention Levi’s giving her. “Technically,” he drawls, “You stole it. It was in your bin.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who put it there,” Eren fires back with an incredulous laugh. “I’m pretty sure it should be up in the costume loft just in case the program needs it for a future show…”

“Keep it,” Levi says seriously. “You’d regret it if you didn’t have something to remember the show by.”

Eren is silent for a few moments. “What about you? Did you take something for yourself?”

Levi shifts on the bed, the mattress creaking under him. Baby whines and lays her head on his stomach, eyes slipping shut; he gives her a warning look—she drools in her sleep—and answers, “My mom bought like, three of those commemorative poster things they were selling. She wants to frame one and stick it right in the front hall; I dunno what the hell she needs the other two for.”

Eren laughs, and Levi thinks that he’d prefer it more if the sound were truly right next to his ear rather than distorted through the phone. “My parents bought one of those, too. Since you can pick the names you want on it, they got me, Mikasa’s, and yours.”

The back of Levi’s neck heats with an embarrassed--but flattered--flush. “Tell ‘em thanks.”

“You bet,” Eren says warmly, and Levi almost smiles.

The end up talking until late, minds still on theater even though that chapter of this semester is officially closed. Eren asks him what he knows about the spring plays, and Levi explains that from what he’s seen, it’s hard work—even more difficult than the musical. Getting cast is an honor; there’s no room for people that can’t handle the work, but the payoff is worth it.

“You’ve seen all those awards in the lobby,” Levi says, thinking of the rows and rows of gold statues, several from the conference and sectional competitions, and usually at least one from state—winning or not. “It’s a big deal. That’s why we’re hearing about it months before anything actually happens.”

“Must be amazing,” Eren whispers, more than a little wistful. Now Levi is definitely smiling, because he _knows_ what a tone like that means coming from Eren. “Getting to perform a serious show. Not that the musical isn’t serious,” he hastily amends. “But—”

“It’s different,” Levi interrupts solemnly. And that's really all that needs to be said.

“Yeah.” There’s a lengthy pause, and even though Eren hasn’t said anything more, Levi can hear it in the way his breath almost hitches with the question on his mind that he has yet to ask.

Levi prevents him from doing so with a glance at the clock and a teasing, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Eren lets out an indignant huff of laughter. “Shut up. It is late though, so I am gonna go to sleep. I've got a lot to catch up on, after all.”

“Alright.”

“Hey Levi?”

“Mm?”

“Can I get a ride to school tomorrow?”

“Jesus,” Levi snorts. “The show’s over and I’ve still gotta fucking drive you everywhere?”

“Deal with it.”

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Goodnight Levi,” Eren murmurs teasingly before there’s a quiet click and the other end goes silent. Levi bites back a smile—even when Eren’s being a brat, it’s still annoyingly endearing—and lets his mind linger on the spring plays. Eren will be auditioning; it’s not even a question. In fact, everyone he knows in the cast will be returning to audition. There’s a large gap of time in between—months for him to feel off-kilter the way that he’s seen all the theater kids over the years act, as if they hadn’t really had a life before the show and don’t know what to do with themselves until the next one. That sort of aimlessness isn’t exactly something that Levi’s looking forward to, even though it seems inevitable.

Without thinking about it, he unlocks his phone and opens up his calendar, tapping forward two months.

December 18th, Shadis had said. A Wednesday. The first day of finals, and the auditions for the spring plays. He’s sure that even though everyone else is going to have that awkward loss of purpose, that sense that something’s missing, at least they have that day to look forward to. They all know for certain that they’ll be trying out. It’s not even a question for them.

Levi stares at his phone.

_‘December 18 th.’_

The screen goes black after being idle for too long. After a moment, Levi slides his finger across and unlocks it. The calendar pops back up.

Before he can think too much about what this means, he marks the date.

_‘December 18 th – Spring Play Auditions.’_


	17. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He nods at Levi. “I don’t know how you stayed away from it for so long."
> 
> Levi blinks and realizes that he doesn’t know either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so patient with me! Also this is unedited trash; will fix stuff later!

The little auditorium is cold and dark, and Levi isn’t actually supposed to be there, but he’d gotten out of eighth period early by being the first to finish his test. Truthfully, he could’ve stayed until the end of the period, but the teacher had offered to let him leave, and he has thinking to do.

Sitting on the stage alone after having turned on a few of the house lights, it seems like this is the best place for him to be right now.

What was left of autumn has quickly sprung into an early and bitterly cold winter, the trees bare and skies overcast all the time as October gave way to November, and now December has just arrived; winter has always been Levi’s favorite season, and not just because it’s when his birthday is—though really, that is a big part of it.

But aside from that, winter is unique from the other seasons. To Levi, there’s something about the way the world strips itself bare and gets ready to start over again that appeals to him. Everything is empty—the trees, the expanse of thick, light clouds stretched over the sky like a blank canvas. Winter is like an intermission, when he has the chance to absorb all that’s happened this past year—the past few months, specifically—and get ready for what comes next.

The only issue is that Levi needs to decide what comes next, and he’s not entirely certain that he can.

He has some of his priorities in order. After the shows, he’d pulled his grades back up to their usual excellent status—excellent enough that he’s exempt from all his finals next week. _‘So there is that,’_ he thinks, laying on the bare stage, legs dangling over the edge of the apron. The hardwood is cool on his back, and he hopes that it’s been cleaned recently.

And then he remembers that of course it has, because soon it will be used for the first time all year. Auditions are coming up, right along with finals. And while Levi knows that he is certain he wants to audition, he also hasn’t really talked about it with anyone. He’s listened to the others in group conversations at lunch or study hall—the thing about theater is that it never really feels like it’s over in this show-less interim, because everyone’s still always together—and he’s listened to everyone else’s thoughts, and even given some advice or explanations a time or two.

But no one’s asked him about what his hopes and plans are. Eren’s correctly assumed that he’d be trying out, and there’s a quiet understanding between the two of them that while Eren is alright with jabbering on about the pros and cons of being cast in either play—since the possibility of him not being cast honestly seems minimal and Levi’s told him so—that’s not the case with Levi.

Levi prefers to keep quiet about what’s coming until the day of auditions is right on his doorstep, so to speak. While everyone else doesn’t pester him with questions about what show he wants to be in because—even after performing a show together—he’s still a little bit intimidating, Eren doesn’t ask because he knows Levi wouldn’t tell him anyway, and that’s alright.

Really, Levi doesn’t think he has a preference. He’s seen all the shows the program has put on, so he knows what spring plays are about. They’re both one-act plays. Contest play is forty minutes long and involves a full set and costume and makeup—usually a big, two-act, two hour play is whittled away until the vital points of the show are left, and that’s it. The rules of competitive theater state that it must be a play, though.

Group interpretation is a little different; thirty minutes long instead of forty, and while they utilize a set and costumes—although really, they’re more uniforms—their script can be taken from anything: a play, a movie, a book. And the performance is presented differently; the closest thing that Levi can think of to describe it is something similar to reader’s theater—there’s a narrator and a chorus.

Both plays have their merits. And both plays take nothing less than total dedication to survive, much less to actually advance from conference, to sectionals, to state. That’s the ultimate goal: making it to the state competition.

And it’s so far away, but preparations have already been made; every day Levi hears new rumors about what each show might be. Hanji’s known for a couple of weeks, but crew has been ordered to be tight-lipped about the whole thing, and they take that very seriously.

So all Levi really knows is that he’s going to try out.

And unfortunately, that’s all he has a clue about. And while there’s still time before everything regarding theater gets thrown into gear, time is running out for him regarding what he wants to do after high school.

He tries not to think about how it hardly seems fair that he’ll have to make concrete plans sooner rather than later, when he doesn’t even know whether he’ll have a purpose to his life again or be left aimless after next week. It all depends on the outcome of auditions.

But after that.

He really should be making a choice.

 _‘I really don’t think they’d flat out reject you,’_ he recalls Eren saying.

Levi presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes and mutters aloud, “What the fuck do you know.” Swallowing a sigh—because Eren knows a lot and he’s just being immature—Levi sits up and drags his backpack over onto his lap, fishing out the folded papers that he’d printed out the other day and had pointedly refused to look at ever since. But he figures he needs to suck it up; unfortunately, the universe isn’t going to cut him a break just because he’s hesitating.

“Dumbass,” he mutters, just as the auditorium door creaks open.

Shadis frowns at him from the doorway, a notebook in his hand. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

Levi deliberately scoots further back onto the stage. “Nobody was around, so.”

“You know there are cameras here, right? They can see you in the office.”

“Oh those things actually work? Wow,” Levi mutters, glancing up at the ceiling. “Always thought they were for show. This place is too broke to afford desk chairs that don’t wobble when you sit in them. Actual, working security cameras seemed a bit—” He snorts at Shadis’ unamused, flat look and quirks a brow. “What do they think I’m gonna do here, steal a stage light? Okay.”

“Maybe turn down the sarcasm,” Shadis remarks, making his way down the rows of seats to take a place in the very center of what would be an audience, directly across from Levi. It’s where he sits for auditions.

“Sorry,” Levi says, half-honest. Maybe not even that.

He avoids Shadis’ sharp gaze but can’t ignore the man when he gestures at the papers in his lap and asks, “What have you got there?”

Levi slouches over, resting his chin in the palm of one hand and waving the printouts with the other. “College stuff,” he says flatly, and Shadis makes a soft noise of understanding.

“That time of year again. You applied anywhere yet?”

“Nope,” is the short answer. When he glances up and finds Shadis watching him unblinkingly, expectant, Levi rolls his shoulders with a tired groan and stares down at his papers. “I’ve been thinking about Stohess. I guess.”

He isn’t sure whether or not he expected something—surprised approval or utter disbelief, maybe—but all he gets is silence, and that contributes to the mounting unease he’s felt about college more than any other reaction would. He likes being able to read people, but Shadis isn’t just a closed book—he’s a closed book in a heavily padlocked chest that can only be opened by a key that probably doesn’t even exist. Levi presses his lips thin and says nothing else; he’s got enough on his plate as it is without concerning himself what Shadis, or any authority figure for that matter, thinks of him.

“Stohess,” Shadis finally says, tone of voice utterly indecipherable. Then, “You’re gonna need audition pieces.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I know. And money for the application fee. And a headshot. And letters of recommendation. If I even want to apply. And I need to have this all figured out _yesterday_.”

There’s a silence that stretches in the space of the auditorium, not tense, but a gap in the conversation that’s meant to allow Levi time to breathe and come back down from being wound up so tight. Shadis, familiar with the anxieties that hunch up the shoulders of seniors about to graduate, watches for it in Levi. And when it’s faded a bit, that’s when he says neutrally, “Well, no one expects you to take on too much at once. Focus on what’s important.”

Levi snorts. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that from my parents.”

The corner of Shadis’ lip twitches up. “I think I can guess.”

Levi bites back a smirk and lets his gaze run over the informational papers on Stohess without really registering any of the words. After a moment, he says, “I’ve already been focusing on school. No finals for me.”

“Exempt from all of them?”

“Yep.”

Shadis nods approvingly, flipping open the notebook in his lap and rifling through it; Levi can make out lines and lines of Shadis’ chicken scratch, and there are tons of bright Post-Its bulking up the pages. “Well then you have some of a load off your shoulders.”

“For a while,” Levi agrees. “But auditions are next week anyway. And it’s two weeks of break, then back to work. Back to everything,” he mutters, scowling.

Shadis pauses. “So you are auditioning.”

Levi squints at him. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t?”

Shadis sounds almost amused when he replies, “I wondered whether or not the musical was just a one-off.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Good to know.”

Levi watches, irritated, as Shadis returns to studying the notebook. After a lengthy silence punctuated only by the sound of turning pages, Levi takes the bait and asks, “You gonna tell me about the plays, or…?”

Shadis blinks. “If you wanted to know about them, you should’ve asked.”

Levi grits his teeth and bites out, “I just did.”

Shadis, pleased at being able to rile Levi up, judging by the amused glint in his eyes, snaps the notebook shut and leans back in his seat. “Trying to gather information so you can pick which one you want to go for in advance?”

The severe curl of Levi’s lip is probably enough to convince Shadis of his honest disgust with the notion, in case his sharp ‘ _no’_ isn’t enough.

Either way, Shadis nods and, in a significantly more amicable tone, “All I’ll say for now is that the group interpretation is The Monsters, and the contest play is Next Thing.”

“And are both of them so obscure that a Google search will turn up fuck-all?”

“Language,” Shadis warns. “And yes. You can handle waiting a week to find out more.”

Levi huffs an annoyed breath out through his nose but doesn’t comment on the fact that really, he should’ve known better; Shadis is, despite appearances, a man who appreciates having a good flair for the dramatic now and again, and him being so tight-lipped about the plays is to be expected. All he says is, “Patience has never really been one of my virtues.”

Shadis sounds amused. “No?”

“Nope,” Levi answers, ‘p’ popping. He shoves the printouts into his bag and leans back before performing a kip up, feet planting on the stage with a solid boom of sound that resonates in the nearly-empty auditorium. He smirks at Shadis’ slightly nonplussed look and says, “I’m more a fan of immediate action, myself. Decide to do a thing, then actually do the thing.”

“Is that how it works,” Shadis murmurs, turning an eye to his own papers; a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

Levi thinks of Stohess. “Most times, yeah.”

He’s nearly out the door of the auditorium, backpack slung over one shoulder and cellphone in hand—he wants to call Hanji and see if there’s plans this weekend for everyone to meet up and help the kids who aren’t exempt from finals study—when Shadis calls his name. He turns and raises a brow.

Shadis is still focused on his papers when he says gruffly, “If you decide on Stohess, you’d better know that there are plenty of people to go to for recommendation letters or help with selecting an audition piece. Use your resources.”

Levi blinks. That’s as close to reassurance as he’ll get—the acknowledgement that he’s not alone and that support is something that he has from more than just his parents or his friends—and something that feels suspiciously like gratitude fills his chest, light and uplifting. He almost smiles.

“I already knew that,” is Levi’s breezy response. Shadis’ brief bark of laughter follows him out the door.

~~~

Saturday is cold and dreary, December drizzles wetting the pavement and contributing to the plummeting temperatures, but Erwin’s media room is cozy as ever when he and the other theater kids all meet up for a study session. Levi had thoroughly enjoyed messing with Eren about how giving him a ride was such a hassle when he doesn’t even have to take any finals, but by now Eren knows when Levi is being serious and when he’s just being an asshole.

“You’d be here anyway,” he says, nudging Levi’s thigh with his foot. They’ve claimed the loveseat, Levi sitting at one end and Eren laid out across the whole thing, only half-paying attention to the novel he should be reading for his English final. He grins. “You don’t have a life.”

Levi jabs the bottom of Eren’s foot with a pen, snorting at the yelp the younger boy lets out that drowns out everyone’s snickers. He ignores the warning, “Levi, be nice,” that comes from Erwin, Hanji, and Petra in perfect unison.

“There’s plenty of things I could be doing right now. Way more interesting things. Taking a joyride. Sleeping. Taking a joyride _while_ sleeping, slamming my car into the side of Shop N’ Go—”

“Going out in a blaze of glory,” Mikasa mutters, never looking up from her chemistry notes.

“That’s the dream.” Levi pops the cap off the pen and flicks it at her; it misses by a wide margin and bounces off the coffee table to land in Hanji’s lap. “Honestly, the only reason I’m here is because Erwin’s mom is gonna make dinner later. I’ll go anywhere for good food.”

“And for me,” Eren says, impish grin still on his face.

Levi looks at him long and hard. Then, “Nah.”

From his place in a circle of kids all going over math formulas, Jean lets out a suspicious cough and mutters something that sounds like, “Old married couple.”

Eren’s ears go red when the others snicker, but he nudges Levi again and says, “Who knows, maybe that’ll end up being the next thing we’re cast as.”

“Five bucks says you don’t get cast as anything,” Levi replies, and Eren kicks him, which only makes him laugh.

As much as it’s just a way of goading Eren, Armin voices a serious point. “The spring plays are a lot more selective than the musical.”

“Not as many people audition for them though,” Erwin says, idly twirling a pencil between his fingers. “Only dedicated theater kids stick around. The ones who appreciate the competitive aspect and understand how much harder the work is in the spring.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to say that,” Levi says wryly.

Erwin gives him a genial smile and shrugs. “Auditions are around the corner, and it’s no big secret.”

It might not be a secret, but things like that are generally implied rather than said aloud. _‘Then again,’_ Levi thinks, noticing the way the kids seem to sit up straighter and smile a little wider, _‘a little ego-stroking never hurt.’_ Even if they weren’t before, the label of ‘dedicated’—especially for the first years who’ve only experienced a single semester of what will hopefully become a big part of their high school experience—isn’t so much as a label as it is a gauntlet, obviously thrown in hopes of encouraging everyone to rise to the challenge.

 _‘You’re not as clever as you think,’_ Levi thinks, raising a brow when Erwin looks at him to let his friend know he’s onto him. Erwin’s smile grows considerably slyer in response. Levi snorts softly, shaking his head. Everyone’s rising to the bait anyway—even him.

It’s Connie, however, who says, “It’s still a lot harder to get cast in a spring play than it is to get cast in the musical.”

“Why’s that?” a freshman named Mylius asks.

“Smaller casts,” Bertholdt answers. “There’s no big musical numbers with places in an ensemble to fill.”

“And Shiganshina spring plays have always had weirdly small casts,” Sasha says, chewing on the end of her pen. “I remember coming to see them when I was in eighth grade—contest play won state that year and group interp took third. There were like, eight people in one and fifteen in the other.”

Eren scoots up into a sitting position, eyes wide—though not with disappointment. “Seriously?” he asks, determination blazing in his gaze.

Erwin chuckles and says, “The casts could be bigger this year, though.”

“Are they?” Levi asks bluntly; if anyone would know about the shows, it’s Erwin.

Erwin, who is a secretive bastard when he wants to be; Levi is annoyingly reminded of that when the only response he gets is another nauseatingly good-natured smile before Erwin shares a knowing look with Hanji. “Maybe.”

“Oh, come on!” Sasha explodes, slapping her notebook against her lap. “You know and you’re not gonna give us a hint? Come on,” she calls, dragging out the final word until others have started nodding in agreement and turning to look at Erwin with pleading eyes. Levi sympathizes, though he’s not about to beg for information.

And he doesn’t need to, because Erwin gives in almost immediately. _‘Of course,’_ Levi thinks, rolling his eyes. _‘I ask and I get fuck-all, but everyone else asks, and suddenly it’s story time. Note to self: kill Erwin. Free self from the Eyebrow Overlord.’_

“Levi, why are you smiling?”

“No reason.”

Erwin side-eyes him but then turns to address the curious room at large. “I don’t know a lot about the shows—Shadis will tell us more at auditions—but I can talk about them in general, so you know what you’re signing up for.

“Contest play is a forty minute show cut down from a full-length play,” Erwin explains. “It’s got everything in a professional performance—full costumes, makeup, set, lights, sound—scaled down to fit the time limit.”

“What’s it about this year?” Marco asks.

Erwin smiles. “Dancing.” Mildly confused looks go through the room, and then someone asks about the group interp. Erwin answers, “GI is thirty minutes long, adapted from anything—a script, a movie, a book. Usually there’s music incorporated, and parts of it are spoken in chorus. And instead of costumes, everyone wears uniforms.”

“Uniforms?” That’s Mina.

Erwin looks to Petra, who’s been in GI twice before where he never has. “Uniforms is kind of a stiff word; basically, everyone has to match. If the boys wear blue sweaters with black trousers, then the girls wear the same blue sweaters with black skirts. It’s to help people focus on the storytelling, which is more important in GI than costumes.”

“I heard GI was really hard,” Armin says quietly, staring at the book in his lap when all eyes turn to him. Redness creeps up high on his cheeks, but he still clarifies, “I mean, it seems like it’s really hard. Learning how to blend perfectly as the chorus. And even moving around on the set without stumbling—just needing to know where you’re going and getting there without looking awkward. Seems like there’s a lot of important technical stuff to it.”

“There is,” Petra says with a nostalgic smile. “And it is pretty difficult. Ms. Brzenska directs it; she's very strict.”

“More than Shadis?” Sasha asks, blinking in surprise; the idea seems unfathomable.

Petra giggles and says, “Oh, way worse than Director Shadis. He can be intimidating, but he’s actually really nice. He’s an easy director.”

“Seriously?” someone whispers, and Levi snorts.

“Put it this way,” he says, glancing in the general direction of the non-believer. “Have you ever heard him yell without a good reason? Even once?” When no one answers, he nods, point made. “Exactly. Let’s face it, we’re all just scared of him because he’s got no eyebrows. Shit’s unnatural.”

Petra gives him a warning look, but her mouth is twitching. She manages to bite back her laughter and says, “Levi’s right. About the directing. Ms. Brzenska is also a great director—we’ve brought home plenty of trophies for GI with her—but she’s very strict. Very much a perfectionist. She just wants everyone to do their best though, so you can’t blame her. But yeah, it can be tough if you forget that.”

Armin stares at her, nodding, eyes bright. Slowly, Petra smiles. “Armin, are you aiming for GI?”

Levi watches the kid stiffen for a moment, but his voice is solid when he answers, “Yes.” He shrinks back a bit when everyone turns to stare at him again, and says with a self-deprecating laugh, “I mean, I know that’s a lot to hope for, especially because I’m a freshman. But I’ve always really liked GI.”

“It’s not a lot to hope for,” Eren says, loud as ever. “Who cares what year you’re in? What matters is how bad you want it,” he adds with a teasing grin, and Armin smiles back.

“Kid’s got a point,” Levi says. “Sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?”

“Your year or your experience doesn’t matter, but neither does how badly you want it,” Levi tells him, watching the way Eren furrows his brow; obviously he disagrees. But Levi adds, “Cause, you know. I wanted to get cast in the musical _so_ badly at auditions.”

Eren snorts, eyes flashing. “Okay fine, but you wanted _something_.”

“To show you up.”

Eren’s grin turns a bit wolfish. “Well you did get the lead role.”

Levi holds up a finger. “ _A_ lead role. You were there too, if I remember right.”

“The play was literally named after your character. _The_ lead role.”

“Semantics,” he fires back, fixed on the way Eren gets hot-eyed like always whenever they butt heads over something—whether it’s big or small.

“ _Either way_ ,” Eren interjects, “determination is a big part of it.”

“But it’s not everything,” Levi says. “Especially in auditions. Doesn’t matter how determined you are if they don’t end up seeing what they’re looking for. That’s why a four year vet can get a lead role one semester and an ensemble roll the next. That’s why a newbie can end up with a named role one semester, and not get cast at all the next. How dedicated you are hasn’t changed. But the type of actor they need might have.”

The room is quiet at that, and Levi frowns when he realizes that he might’ve shot hopes down instead of correcting misconceptions. ‘ _Whoops.’_

“What Levi means,” Hanji begins, smashing through the silence with exuberance, “is that everyone auditioning should be determined to show their best at auditions, without worrying about whether it’s what the directors are looking for or not.”

Levi side-eyes her. “Yeah,” he says. _‘Sort of.’_ But still, he doesn’t miss the way a couple of wilted postures have perked right back up. Even if she’s a little off about his meaning, Hanji’s words still have a ring of truth, as well as being better for morale. “Thanks.”

Hanji flashes him a grin and a thumbs-up.

“It’s still okay to hope for getting cast in one or the other,” Levi says, because he certainly won’t begrudge anyone that. “It’s good to set goals and all that shit.” He glances at Armin. “So aim for GI. Freshman have been cast before.”

“I’m aiming for contest play,” Eren announces, eyes blazing. Levi snorts.

“Of course you are,” he says teasingly. _‘You wouldn’t fit anywhere else_ ,’ he thinks; Eren has too dominating of a personality to be able to blend well in the chorus. Even the one member of a GI that stands out—the narrator leading the story—needs to blend when the chorus speaks together. But he figures that Eren, despite an overall lack of experience in competitive drama and with only one real opportunity to get cast, one possible place to fit where most people have two… Eren still stands a better chance than most. There’s just something about him, some shine that Levi is sure hasn’t faded even though it’s been two months since he’s been on a stage.

He blinks when he realizes that Eren is staring at him. “What?”

“I said what about you?” Eren asks. “Which one are you hoping for?”

Levi shrugs and answers immediately. “I don’t care.” He watches Eren’s brows pull down in a disapproving frown; for a second it’s the musical auditions all over again, but Levi shakes his head and gives him the faintest of smiles. “As long as I’m cast, I don’t care. I’d be happy either way.”

His voice is as casual as casual gets, but he knows that Eren hears the hope in it—the private want—and he beams. “Good.”

While everyone else starts talking about what show they’re aiming for, study materials entirely forgotten like Levi knew they would be, Eren scoots closer and almost whispers, “Is it weird if I say I hope we end up in contest play together?”

Levi smirks. “Baby needs me to hold his hand through another show?”

Eren shoves him back with a laugh. “Shut up, you did not! Stupid. I hope you don’t get cast at all,” he jibes, and then his face freezes and he vehemently shakes his head. “No, I lied. I hope you get cast. I hope I didn’t jinx that.”

“I think acknowledging the possibility of a jinx makes it a jinx.”

“Shit.”

“Relax,” Levi snorts, pinching Eren’s side. “Theater kids are superstitious, but not that much.” Levi gives it a bit of thought and says, “Realistically, I know that odds of getting cast this semester are slimmer than they were for the musical. Especially for me, and that’s not that good. But if I go and audition with no regrets, I can’t really complain in the end.” He pauses. “Maybe I’d do crew. I don’t think I could be uninvolved again.”

Eren’s eyes are bright with admiration. “I wish I could be that sure of myself. I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t acting. I mean, crew’s great—Mikasa says so and I know it anyways—but I don’t think I could do it, knowing what I’m missing. It’s like, what am I doing if I’m not acting?” He nods at Levi. “I don’t know how you stayed away from it for so long."

Levi blinks and realizes that he doesn’t know either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Auditions up next! Again, thank you so much for being so patient with me, and thank you so much for reading!


End file.
